From the Shadows
by MK-ONE
Summary: Harry is betrayed at the final battle and is forced to flee England and rebuild his life anonymously anew.Prophesy has a way of interferring and dragging him back to face his destiny,that doesn't mean he has to like it or cooperate with the powers that be
1. Chapter 1

**From the Shadows**

**by Magical Knight**

**Chapter One:**

**The Grand Finale**

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All hail to J.K.R. for showing us the way!

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><p>The final confrontation had raged across the grounds of Hogwarts for what seemed like day, but in reality had been only a few short hours.<p>

Death Eaters literally littered the grounds, intermixed with the bodies of the dead and dying; students and some of their parents, professors, aurors and several members of the Order of the Phoenix .

Voldemort's now decimated forces had killed with extreme prejudice. Neither child nor mother were spared from so much reckless hate.

Only one of the Wizarding World's terrorist still remained,( the vile head of the serpent), Voldemort himself. Fate was unfolding before the eyes of hundreds of stunned witnesses as Harry Potter battled against the Dark Lord in a 'winner take all', wizarding duel to the death.

Voldemort had pulled every dirty trick in the book, but Harry Potter was still standing and growing more powerful as the minutes wore on toward hours.

Belatrix Lestrange had fallen before an onslaught spear headed by Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. In the end, a couple of well placed _cutting__hexes_ had severed the evil bitch's head from her shoulders- in mid rant. From the corner of his eye he could see Hermione fall during the exchange, and Harry was desperately worried for her, but could do nothing as he was locked in mortal combat with the most powerful Dark Lord in history.

Voldemort had held himself in check and bided his time, content to wait as Harry exhausted himself battling thru a sea of Death Eaters and dark creatures to get to his adversary.

Once a bruised and bloody, Harry Potter had finally won his way thru, Voldmort had little choice but to engage his sworn enemy,( largely due to Dumbledore's having reinforced the previously breeched anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards over the grounds of Hogwarts).

Unable to flee as was his want, Voldemort had entered the fray with his usual taunts, quickly followed by a barrage of _cruatius__hexes_and_killing__curses_ . Harry had easily dodged and blocked Voldemort's initial volley. He'd relied on razor sharp reflexes to dodge some curses and hastily conjured stone walls and boulders to block those curses he could not avoid.

Harry had not wasted his time solely on defense during the initial exchange. He started off conservatively throwing back the occasional _cutting__hex_ and the odd _reducto_as he regained his strength.

Twenty minutes later , Voldemort's frustration was reaching an all time high as Harry had not only managed to avoid or block all of his curses, but had even managed to batter and bloody the Dark Lord,.. probably the first to do so in history.

_Things were starting to get interesting…_

"Say Tom,…" Harry called out mockingly. ",now that you're warmed up, can we dispense with the basics and get down to some serious dueling" Harry challenged in a bored tone.

Voldemort growled angrily and threw another _crucio _at Harry. Harry rolled under the curse and came up on his knee firing off a nasty _bone__breaker_ that caught the Dark Lord a glancing blow and dislocated his right shoulder.

Voldemort cursed vehemently, not so much from the pain, but from the frustration and abject humility over his inability to return the favor to his young nemesis.

_Impossible, __he __can__'__t __be __this __adept? __He__'__s __a __mere __boy.__Dumbledore __must __have __found __some __way __to __channel __power __into __the __whelp. __It__'__s __the __only __thing __that __makes __sense._Voldemort thought incredulously as he renewed his attack with increased ferocity.

"Would you care to know what the prophecy says, Tom? You know the one you've spent so much time and effort to obtain, only to have it slip thru your fingers time and again. Corse, I suppose you could blame it on the incompetence of your followers, but then again, you are their supposed leader. Doesn't that make you ultimately responsible for the failure of your subordinates?" Harry continued to distract and mock the Dark Lord.

Voldemort found that a dose of his own medicine was not to his liking.

"I'll see you dead, Potter. You and every one of you're mud blood friends." Voldemort snarled as he thru a _bone__liquefying_curse back .

Harry sidestepped the purple light of the curse, sighing in mock boredom as he did so. "I was beginning to wonder if you new any other spells beside your trademark, '_Advara __Kedavra__'_ or _'__Crucio__'__. _Seriously, Tom? Getting back to my suggestion before,.. let's stop fooling around!"

Harry cast his wand aside. His magic poured off him in waves, scorching the earth beneath his feet as it expanded outward in an ever increasing arc. Despite the distance between them, Voldemort could feel the air crackle with energy. For the first time, in a long time, Tom Riddle remembered what it is to be afraid.

Riddle howled in desperation as the ground beneath his feet turned sandy and viscous pulling him inexorably down like quicksand. As soon as his last flailing appendage was sucked under, Harry blasted the sand with a wandless _incendio,_the heat from which could have rivaled a crematorium. When the eldritch fire had finally burned itself out, one could readily see that the sandy ground had been melted and fused into a thick plane of confining glass.

Harry conjured an ordinary cleaning broom and set about dusting off the surface of the glass, seemingly oblivious to the shocked stares of those that had been watching the battle all around him.

Harry finished and stepped back to admire his handiwork. " You're not exactly photogenic, Tom, but ,all the same, you've never looked better. " He chortled.

The sound of cracking glass warned Harry to beat a hasty retreat. He'd barely made it a few meters before the glass plate ruptured into a thousand jagged shards and splinters that filled the air like a glimmering cloud of angry wasps.

Voldemort dragged himself out of his earthen tomb, coughing and gagging as he struggled to fill his oxygen starved lungs. Allowing himself a moment's distraction, he cast a malevolent glare in Harry's direction and thrust his hand forward; sending a storm of the hovering glass shards hurtling toward his smirking foe.

Harry was prepared for this eventuality, having witnessed Voldemort use this same tactic against Dumbleore at the Ministry of Magic on the night when Sirius was murdered by Lestrange.

Harry's hands shot out and halted the advancing shards just inches from impacting his person. Harry pursed his lips and blew gently, sending the shards racing back toward Voldemort, where the latter still struggled to regain his feet.

The shards did not impact Voldemort as expected. They instead swirled around him faster and faster, fusing themselves into a gigantic glass sphere that bodily encased the shaken Dark Lord.

Harry snapped his fingers and the sphere filled with water, completely submerging the shocked Dark Lord.

Voldemort pounded uselessly against the spherical walls of his watery tomb, his face bluing from the effort as he quickly used up his reserves of oxygen.

Harry pointed to the sphere and called out merrily. "Hey everybody, look at the funny fish!"

With a last desperate effort , Voldemort was able to rupture the sphere with a _reductor_ hex. His sodden, spluttering form washed out across the Hogwarts blood drenched lawns.

Harry glanced at his wristwatch before asking in a mocking tone. "Had enough, Tom. I'd just assume we wrap this up. Azkaban is calling you home, or if you'd rather, we could have a dementor just give you a little smooch here and now? Awe, wait a minute,.. that's right.. I killed all of your personal dementors earlier didn't I? Just as well, I suppose, your soul would a probably given them an awful belly ache,... not that you have much of a soul left." Harry finished in feigned regret.

"E-Enjoy your moment, l-little man." Volemort spluttered out between gasps. "There the last moments you'll ever have. Die Potter!" Voldemort snarled as his hands shot forward sending dual beams of foulest dark magic, rocketing at Harry.

"There's the spirit." Harry clapped his hands appreciatively. The night black beams were nearly upon him when Harry responded in kind. He shot his own palms forward and sent twin silver beams of pure magical energy to intersect the dark magic that was nearly upon him.

The four beams of energy intersected in the air with an ear splitting '_**CRACK**__**'**_ of static discharge that wafted across the grounds. The static discharged prickled at people's skin and lifted hair as it washed over the gathered throng.

Harry pressed his hands outward as if he were pushing against a great weight. His twin beams of magical energy responded and pushed back Voldemort's beams toward their source.

Voldemort's eyes bugged out in terrified disbelief. Despite his best efforts his own magical beams were inexorably being pushed back toward himself. Knowing that the backlash of power would tear him to shreds, Voldemort halted his present assault and instead, muttered a transformation spell that instantly transformed his body into that of a gigantic black cobra with glowing red eyes.

Voldi-snake's black, undulating body slithered menacingly toward Harry, who for his part looked wholly unconcerned by this deadly turn of events.

In a flash of lightning, the air split with a peel of thunder and where once stood a young wizard, now a golden brown Griffin pawed the earth and let out a might screech of challenge to the suddenly hesitant, giant snake.

Venamous fangs struck with lightning speed, encountering only empty air as the mighty wings of the griffin launched itself into the air just out of the enraged snake's reach.

Talons extended as the griffin plummeted down onto Voldi-snakes exposed back, just below the giant cobra's hood.

The griffin tore out great gouges of scaly flesh. The snaked wreathed in horrific pain as Harry tore into its flesh, trying to work its way down to the snakes' spinal column.

With a last desperate effort the snake tore free of Harry's unforgiving talons, only to twist and thrash uselessly across the ground in maddening pain before turning back into Voldemort's blood drenched, ruined form.

Voldemort clawed his way unsteadily to his feet, pulling his wand haltingly from beneath his shredded robes. Night black blood dribbled from the ruin of his back and splattered the ground at his feet.

Harry's griffin form landed and pawed at the ground defiantlyin a triumphant roar. A flash of lightning and peel of thunder later; the young wizard returned from whence a proud griffin had stood moments before.

Voldemort's chest heaved with exertion as a leaden hand struggled to raise his wand one last time.

Harry shook his head in resignation. "You're finished, Tom. Surrender, let there be an end to this madness." Harry pleaded for a sane resolution.

Aged eyes watched with a calculating eye from across Hogwart's lawn. No 'twinkle' of pride did these eyes hold for his once apprentice.

_Surrender? __Surely __not?_ The venerable headmaster thought in disgust.

One alone would be a delicate undertaking to supplant, but the two of them would seriously jeopardize his plans for continued glory and with it…power.

Albus Dumbledore had planned long and hard . His plans were not at the precipise of fruation and he would be thrice cursed before he would let Potter ruin his years of careful planning thru an act of foolish mercy.

His plan had been for Voldemort to survive their final duel and then he, Albus Dumbledore, would again become the savior of the wizarding world, by delivering the 'death blow' to the battle weary dark lord.

If Potter had somehow managed to survive and dispose of Voldemort, though a n unfortunate eventuality, plans had been carefully laid to implicate Potter. Dumbledore still held Harry's memory of casting the _cruciatus __curse_ on Belatrix Lestrange. Though the curse had been ineffective would be of no consideration, that part of the memory could easily be erased without altering the integrity of the more damning part of the evidence.

That memory coupled with some careful manipulation of Harry's Grigott's account , displaying some questionable exchange of funds with known Death Eaters, should prove more than sufficent to cast a shadow of doubt on Harry's integrity, if not damn him to incarceration in Azkaban.

All Dumbledore need do is seize the opportune moment and a well placed wandless spell should prove sufficient to 'killing two birds with one stone', as the muggles say.

Dumbledore shifted his position and raised his hand.

Ron Weasley watched events unfold with a mixture of concern, fear and above all else-Jealousy.

Hermione had been distant and cool since his return after having abandoned his two friends during the 'horcrux hunt'. Now he watched in dread concern as Poppy Pomfrey worked feverishly to save the life of the person her desired, and to his twisted thinking-deserved, above all others. She was the one part of his life that he could claim solely for himself without Harry sharing the limelight. At least that's what he had thought, but since his return things had not been the same with Hermione. He had his suspicions as to the real reason for the change in his love's affections toward him, and those suspicions centered on-HARRY.

Now ,he watch along with the rest of them, not in fear for his friend's safty, nor in awe of his abilities, but in animosity. Harry was doing the impossible, he was beating V-Voldemort.

_Probably __win __himself __an__ '__Order __of __Merlin__' __and __a __lifetime __of __even __greater __fame __and __glory __whilst __the __rest __of __us __who __deserve __recognition __will __be __shunted __aside __for __the __bloddy__ '__boy __who __lived__'__._Ron thought bitterly

_Well, __he __can __have __it. __Maybe __he __even __deserves __it __on __some __level, __but, __I__'__ll __be __damned __if __he __gets __Hermione __to . __Maybe, __just __maybe,..__Voldemort __will __take __Harry __with __him._ Ron calculated with dread hope.

Another pair of ice blue eyes watched from a pale, sneering face, as Potter once again proved unfailingly 'lucky' he really was.

_What would happen if Voldemort fell? Would the 'dark mark' on his arm seal his fate ,and with it his doom? Would he too, along with what few Death Eaters remained, die if Voldemort did?_

Draco considered this eventuallity with near panic, along with one other emotion –disdain.

_The __weaslette i__s __totally __smitten __with __Potty._ _If __he __beats t__he D__ark __Lord __as __present __circumstances __indicated __he __would,__Ginevra__Weasley __would __have __eyes __for __no __other. __It __didn__'__t __matter __to __her __whether __he __wanted __her __in __return-she __was __too __far __gone __for __that._

The only trouble was.. Draco wanted her_._

_She i__s __a __pure __blood, __and __a __beautiful __one __at __that._ He thought lecherously.

It didn't even occur to Draco that he didn't love her- he didn't even know the meaning of the word if he was truthful with himself. He was a Malfoy and he wanted her,. that was all that mattered.

Voldemort considered his options as he struggled to ignore the horrific pain from his wounded back . He was beaten and he knew it, As possible as it was to believe, the greatest wizard since Slytherin had been bested,… and by a wizard who was little more than a child.

_Potter was fast-unbelievably fast. If he got lucky, he might be able to take the hated whelp with him._

Frankly, Voldemort did not like his chances in that scenario. Death was not an option he wished to consider in any form.

_Surrendering?_ Though hateful to even fleetingly consider, was his other option.

Imprisonment- an absolute certainty. The 'veil' or the 'kiss' a probability. Still, he would remain alive, receive medical treatment and made whole- it was afterall, the humane thing to do. The wizengamot was rife with bleeding hearts that would insist upon the accused being returned to full health before trail. He would still be alive. He still had many loyal followers amonst the Ministry and the Wizengamot.. escape was always a possibility.

Pale lips stretched into a wicked smile on Voldemort's twisted features as the Drak Lord lowered his wand with the intent to surrender to his young adversary.

Seeing his chance at continued glory slipping thru his fingers, Dumbledore made a desperate gambit. He withdrew the energy required to maintain the anti-apparation wards to power a blasting hex. Dumbledore was both over confident in the speed and accuracy of his spellwork, along with the calculated risk that Voldemort was sufficiently occupied with Harry that he wouldn't notice the temporary absence of the anti apparation wards before Dumbledore could raise them again. His gambit proved doulbly wrong.

With a laugh devoid of all humanity, Voldemort noticed the immediate change in the surrounding magic and apparted away before Harry could curse him.

Harry knew he was betrayed. There was only one person who could have lowered the anti-appartion wards over Hogwarts- the headmaster.

Harry spun around with wand in hand.

Dumbledore seized the opportunity as he accused his once protégé. "You let him get away?

**Traitor!" **

The purple light of a _blasting __hex_, that Dumbledore had intended for Voldemort, rocketed toward him. With the hope of his supposed triumph over the Dark Lord lost, Harry would serve as a sacrificial lamb to further his own ends.

Harry deflected the hex easily, but before he could refute the traitorous headmaster, a barrage of curses and hexes came at him from all sides as others, some from 'innocents' blindly following Dumbledore's lead, and other 'betrayers', who seized upon the opportunity afforded by the venerable headmaster.

Weakened from the battle with Voldemort, Harry's shields cracked under the assault, and fell. _Stunning __spells_ from well meaning sycophants paved the way toward weakening his defenses as _cutting_ and _blasting __hexes_ tore into his body from his betrayers.

Harry fell with but one thought on his mind before the darkness claimed him- _HERMIONE!_


	2. Chapter 2: Justice comes in many forms

**Chapter Two:**

**Justice Comes in Many Forms**

Harry awoke in pain, terrible, throbbing, mind numbing pain. The pain was only overshadowed by the cold terror of hearing his mother's screams fill his muddled thoughts.

"_Not Harry! No, not Harry,..Please!"_

His mother's pleas for mercy were silenced by Voldemort's cruel laugh….

_Oh, Merlin_..._Dementors!_

He was in Azkaban!

Reflexively, Harry slammed his Occulomency shields into place. His mother's screams faded and ceased.

Blinking to accustom his unaided vision against the dim lighting, he found himself stripped naked and chained to the wall with magical dampening restraints.

He could still feel blood oozing from countless, untreated wounds.

Dark shrouded images ghosted past the small window of his cell door. The dementor's were obviously enticed by the horrors their presence brought to his consciousness.

Harry fought down the panic he felt rising in the pit of his stomach. He could ill afford letting his terror guide his actions. He wasn't in a position that could afford even the slightest mistake.

He had suspected one or more of the Order might betray him. Even the possibility that his, once beloved, mentor might throw him to the wolves had occurred to him on more than one occasion.

Dumbledore had been far too reticent of late in his dealings with him. There was also the matter of the 1,500,000 galleons missing from his trust account that Dumbledore pledged he'd get to the bottom of.

The Order of the Phoenix seemed to always run without the need for any financial support, quite a feat, as even the magical world incurred expenses for goods and services. Harry had begun to suspect months ago, just how those expenses were being met.

Dumbledore and his brother, Aberforth were the last of their family line, and the Dumbledores were by no means wealthy. The headmaster made a generous stipend at Hogwarts, his brother barely scrimped by at the Hog's Head, yet both had expensive tastes and lived well, too well.

The Order as a whole was largely populated by well meaning, but decidedly low income individuals; such as the Weasleys, whereas Voldemort's forces were comprised of the elite purebloods of society; such as the Malfoys. Yet, despite this glaring difference in financial backing, the Order was able to maintain itself on a par with the Death Eaters. The money had to come from somewhere?

Harry wouldn't have minded if he'd at least been consulted, before the funds for supporting the effort to sustain a war against Voldemort were automatically contributed from his trust, however, this was not the entire case, but only the tip of the ice berg.

During the supposed years of Voldemort's defeat, funds had been steadily withdrawn from his trust on a regular basis. They were funds that could only have been subtracted by his conveniently appointed 'magical guardian'- Albus Dumbledore, with the added assistance of the Gringott's goblins.

Once Harry had realized the discrepancy in his account, he'd contacted a very prestigious wizarding law firm that had quietly looked into his accounts activities over the past sixteen years since his parent's deaths.

All told; some eight million galleons and change had been funneled from his family's accounts, with the all too eager goblin's assistance. Their usual transaction fee of three percent was apparently forgone in lieu of a more 'appreciative', nine percent for their discretion.

Harry now knew how Dumbledore could afford such an exquisite array of fine robes, rare books and magical devices.

With his trust all but gone, Harry knew that it was only a matter of time before funds would start disappearing from the as yet untouched Black family vault at an alarming rate. His attorneys having found a magical will filed with the goblins that listed the Order of the Phoenix as the sole beneficiary of his entire estate, and Albus Dumbledore listed as the executor of said will, had been the last straw in a series of financially alarming revelations.

With the law firm's assistance in three objectives, Harry had drawn up a new, 'iron clad' will that listed the two people he trusted most in the entire will as his sole beneficiaries. He knew that Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin would see that the monies from his family's estate would be put to good use.

The second objective of the law firm was to protect the contents of said estate. It would do little good to set a will if there was nothing to leave after his untimely demise. Through a series of 'dummy' corporations, the law firm had managed to funnel the bulk of his family's estate, right under the overly long noses of the goblins. The Potter fortune had been secured in a number of financial institutions that were distinctly uninvolved in any dealings with the traitorously greedy goblins. The downside was that he was unable salvage any of the Potter family properties or retrieves any of his family's heirlooms from the family vaults. Thankfully, his parents had left their wedding rings in Remus Lupin's care. Merlin willing, he'd survive so that they'd be passed on to his own children one day. A long shot, but it was his only reason to continue fighting. If there was no chance for a future of any kind after Voldemort, than why even bother. It wasn't like the wizarding world had ever done anything for him that should make him want to needlessly sacrifice himself.

Lastly, Harry's law firm had helped him establish himself both **legally**, and **off **continent. Harry had foreseen that in the aftermath of his final confrontation with Voldemort, things could turn decidedly unfavorable for himself in the British Wizarding world.

As Harry tugged in futile on his magically inhibiting chains, he considered the irony with which he had foreseen this latest in a long line of betrayals by the British wizarding world.

_I wonder if I'll get a trial, or did they have one without my conscious knowledge like they did for Sirius? _

**Three days later…**

A still battered and bruised, Harry Potter was dragged chained, half clothed, starving and severely dehydrated before the Wizengamot in full public attendance.

Harry wounds were still painfully on display for all to see as his tattered clothing left him little modesty. If any in the crowd were moved to pity his inhumane treatment during incarceration, they're gasps of alarm were drowned by the obvious animosity of the majority.

Boo's, hisses, insults and assorted curses rained down on his already battered form.

A glob of wetness spattered against his cheek and an otherwise stoic Harry, turned in the direction of the offending party that had spat upon him.

Wounded green eyes met sneering, traitorous blue, as Ron leered at him malevolently.

Harry took note that Ron was dressed immaculately for the occasion sporting a highly fashionable set of new robes.

_Someone must have come into some money as of late._

No doubt Ron was the first witness for the prosecution, and the source of the _reductor curse_ that had broken his right ribs.

Harry didn't know if he should be pleased or frightened that Hermione was not in her customary place; next to Ron.

He scanned the crowd, but found no hint of her signature: bushy brown hair.

Ginny was next to Ron in the front row of the gallery, her robes were even more luxuriant than her brothers, however, the undoubted benefactor of her new wardrobe had his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, no doubt entirely for his benefit .

Draco Malfoy was holding Ginny Weasley with a look of absolute triumph. If Harry had thought that Malfoy could not have looked more arrogant and haughty in the past, he was mistaken by his appearance at today's circus.

Here were the second and third witness's for the prosecution; the later was the perpetrator of the _cutting hex_, the result of which still throbbed painfully to his left shoulder.

The rest of the Weasley family was scattered throughout the gallery. All wore their usually shabby attire, but none of them save the 'twins' met his gaze. They, at least, had remained supportive, given him nods and thumbs up to try and lift his flagging spirits.

The only other loyalty Harry spied amongst the blood thirsty crowd was found in the persons of a grim faced; Neville Longbottom, an appalled Susan Bones, and a no longer 'dreamy eyed', but now frightened appearing, Luna Lovegood.

_Good old Neville_.

Harry nodded his appreciation to his three friends and shot the twins a defiant wink of solidarity.

"**Silence" **Dumbledore's voice boomed across the court room, bringing an abrupt halt to the antics of the jeering crowd.

Apparently Dumbledore was going to ignore the impartiality that his position required and was intending to preside over this farce. In retrospect, he would no doubt be able to do more damage as judge than as witness for the prosecution.

_Prosecution? What exactly are they prosecuting him for; being betrayed and victimized? Stealing his own funds? Criminal damage to property while fighting for his life at Hogwarts, or something truly heinous such as; Vandalism, via bleeding in a public institution-Azkaban?_

_-What a joke!_

Harry sighed wearily at the subject of his own musings.

"The accused will stand forth"

Harry made a point of checking the area to either side, or behind himself.

"Obviously I must as you've failed to provide me a chair, you're Dumbledore-ship." he returned cheekily.

Dumbledore fixed him with a well practiced withering glare. "You're contempt for this court is well noted by your personal appearance here today, Mr. Potter."

Harry made a show of trying to flatten down his blood caked bangs as he replied with feigned sincerity. "Sorry that. I tried to get the dementor's to sell me one of their cloaks, though they tend to run a bit large and eerie, it was the only selection available at Azkaban."

He was heartened to hear his rebuttal earn an appreciative snort from the direction of the twins, and a few startled gasps of outrage from the rest of the gallery with a mix of appreciative laughter.

"Silence, despite your accusations to the contrary, I know for a certainty that you have been well provided for during your detainment." Dumbeldore falsely reassured the audience.

Harry eyed his wounded exterior. "Apparently medical needs do not fall under the heading of 'well provided for', nor does food, water, toileting or bathing privileges." Harry refuted incredulously before adding with a smirk. "I am indebted to Ron Weasley for the spittle he provided on the way in here, it went a long way toward removing that bit of dried blood on the back of my wrist. The result of the chaffing caused by these lovely wristbands that the Ministry has graciously provided."

Harry turned toward the gallery and fixed his former friend with a soul searing glare. "Thank you, Ron. You're **kindness** will not be forgotten.

Ron's face flamed in embarrassment, but he was still able to growl out, "Anytime, Harry."

The twins noted their little brother's admission as Harry hoped they would. No matter what happened here today, Harry was at least assured that Ron would pay for his betrayal at the hands of his elder brothers. In spades!

"Enough!" Dumbledore bellowed, regaining control of the startled gallery. "Rest assured that Mr. Potter's claims, while undoubtedly baseless, will be investigated and the appropriate action taken should they, in the unlikely event, prove to have merit."

"It warms my heart that justice will be served. Can I expect the Dementors will be fined the appropriate loss of house points, or Merlin forbid, be faced with horrific consequence of detention with Filtch, cleaning the boys toilets?" Harry quipped, earning an appreciative wave of laughter from the gathered throng.

Dumbledore glowered down at Harry's smirking visage. He was losing control of the public sentiment, and that was something he could ill afford. He needed this to end and end quickly before Harry could do or say anything that would further garnish public support and sympathy in his favor.

"I am disheartened by the lack of seriousness with which you perceive these proceedings; Mr. Potter. It displays a lack of remorse to this court."

"While we're on the subject, what exactly are they charges you've trumped up for these proceedings?"Harry made a show of looking himself over.

"Am I charged with public indecency? I can assure you, I am a victim of circumstance." Harry pleaded good naturedly, grinning broadly at his own joke as he dramatically displayed his ragged attire.

The crowd roared in approval of his antics.

"You Are Charged With Treason!" Dumbledore roared in accusation.

The courtroom went deadly silent.

If Dumbledore expected Harry to cower in fear at his pronouncement, he would be sadly disappointed.

"Treason is it? " Harry spat back contemptuously. "Was it **treason** to fight toe to toe with Voldemort whilst the rest of you 'oh so valiant souls' cowered behind in your wet breeches?

Was it **treason** when at the moment of eventual triumph over said Dark Lord, a _blasting hex_ was fired at my back from one of my supposed comrades and the anti-apparation wards over Hogwarts mysteriously failed at the same time, allowing said Dark lord the opportunity of escape."

Harry's voice rose in volume as he continued his diatribe.

"**Was it** **treason when at your command a hail of curses were fired at my person after you accused me of letting Voldemort get away ,when only the headmaster of Hogwart's can erect or remove wards from over the school's grounds?"**

The crowd rumbled in descent over Harry's accusations.

Dumbledore quelled they're suspicions by accusing. "If that were so, then why is it that the last spell your wand fired was an _anti- apparition ward breaking charm_?" Dumbledore smiled in 'would be' triumph as the crowd muttered angrily at his new revelation.

"Interesting as I never used a wand during that entire battle-as you well know." Harry spat back caustically.

"Would you have us believe that you are proficient in the use of wandless magic, a feat that I myself cannot boast, nor any wizard since the time of Merlin himself?" Dumbledore refuted incredulously.

Harry held up his manacled wrists, displaying the magical inhibitors to the crowd. "If I'm not proficient at wandless magic, as you so dishonestly claim, then why are the inhibitors even necessary?" Harry questioned.

"To prevent you're escape by apparition, obviously." Dumbledore returned.

"Which leads us back to the original topic of this cyclic banter, surely the court has an _anti-apparation ward_ in place over these proceedings?"

Murmurs of approval echoed throughout the court room.

Dumbledore's visage soured. _Harry had obviously spent entirely too much time in the company of Ms. Granger._

"The court is merely taking extensive precautions as the depth of your dark powers remains a mystery, Mr. Potter. One that we can ill afford to take lightly, lest we find ourselves faced with the dilemma of a second Dark Lord on the loose, or, in coercion with one another?"

Frightened gasps and shouts of denial echoed in the wake of these accusations.

"Puh-lease?" Harry sneered pulling a nauseous expression. "I fought the bastard just to join him? Even you can't be that senile, then again, you probably are since you obviously can't seem to recall that you're the one who taught me the magical spells I used in said battle. That being the case, any dark spells I learned, I learned under your tutelage."

"I can hardly be held accountable for your activities when outside of school?" Dumbledore defended himself. "Who knows what powers you developed, or spells you learned outside of school,.. or from whom you learnt them?" Dumbledore cast further suspicion on his former protégé.

"You know full well that I spent the majority of my time at school training, and what little time I spent away from school this past year was in the company of the Granger family. Where is Hermione, she and her parents can vouch for the time I spent in their home. Hermione is well acquainted with the course of my study."

Harry's plea elicited a reaction that he hadn't expected. Instead of unsettling Dumbledore further, his words seemed to please the Chief warlock. Dumbledore smiled a cold, cruel smile that chilled Harry to the bone.

"Ms. Granger is incapable of giving any testimony now or ever again." Dumbledore implied icily.

The blood drained out of Harry's face. "She's not… she's not…?" Harry tried to stammer out , horrified by Dumbledore's revelation.

_**Hermione's dead. **_His heart turned to lead in his chest.

"Enough of this banter." Dumbledore cut him off cruelly. "You are charged with treason against the British Magical Nation. The court awaits your plea, Mr. Potter."

Harry hadn't a clue as to what Dumbledore had asked him. His mind was still reeling over Dumbledore's insinuation. _Was Hermione really gone? _

In a show of false compassion, Dumbledore suggested. "As the evidence against you is quite compelling, I strongly urge you to consider pleading guilty and seeking the mercy of this court."

This suggestion caught Harry's attention. "Mercy? The wizarding world has none for the innocent and too much for the guilty. How many times were known Death Eaters allowed to buy their way out of prosecution and, or incarceration for their heinous crimes, only to repeat them tenfold upon their return to society?"

Harry turned toward the gallery and fixed his eyes balefully on Draco. "How many times did your father buy his way out of his legal responsibilities, Draco? What good did it do him in the end? Last I saw him, he was dressed in blood drenched Death Eater robes, lying in a puddle of his own guts and mewling like a babe. So much for pure blood superiority!" Harry spat contemptuously.

The crowd cheered in agreement to his sentiments.

"Quiet!" Dumbledore shouted, pounding his gavel. The crowd's outrage died down to a few scattered grumblings and hateful stares toward a now pale and trembling Draco Malfoy.

"If you are found guilty of treason, Mr. Potter, your entire estate will be seized by the Ministry and you will either be sentenced to be passed through the veil, or kissed by a Dementor. If, however, in a show of good faith and regret for your actions, you were to willingly surrender all Potter family holdings to offset damages and reparations incurred during the course of war and seek this court's mercy, I'm certain justice would be served by your incarceration in Azkaban for an indeterminate amount of time."

Now it was Harry's turn to smile with cold disdain as he accused. "You mean surrender what funds still remain to me after those you and the Goblin's have already stolen out of my trust fund?"

"How dare you?" Dumbledore thundered in outrage, though his eyes held a glimmer of guilt.

"How dare I? You're the one who stole funds from an orphan. You're the one who illegally placed said orphan with relatives against his parents' wills express instructions to the contrary. I was to go to Sirius Black, my godfather, but he was conveniently incarcerated without a trial, wasn't he? How many despicable crimes have you committed under the pretense of laboring for the 'greater good' only to be exalted by the Wizarding World, while I fought a monster and now find myself the sacrificial lamb, lest I willingly let you and your Goblin conspirator's wrestle away the last of my parent's estate, all under the ruse of paying the damages incurred by Voldemort and the rest of his misbegotten lackeys."

The courtroom erupted in pandemonium as shouts of outrage mixed with gasps of denial and cheers of support for Harry.

Dumbledore pounded his gavel and shouted for order for several long moments before the crowd finally quieted down.

"You spin a fanciful tale, , but you are the person on trial here today, not myself. Yours is the evidence that this court will consider, not the made up lies and have truths you would spout to misdirect this august body from its prudent course." Dumbledore returned confidently with a knowing smile.

"My evidence is neither fabricated, nor is it unavailable for scrutiny. I believe that Madam Bone's office has been forward all pertinent information by my legal firm. I had left instructions for that contingency if anything untoward were to befall my person. In short, I've never trusted you, Dumbles. "

Dumbledore's oily smile faltered and his face drained of all color as Harry continued.

"I pity the British Public, both magical and non-magical. Voldemort is still out there. He has suffered a grave defeat, but he will return; it's only a matter of time. His mad thirst for power is such that it can never be sated. He will recruit more Death Eaters and dark creatures and then,… he will return. "

Harry turned contemptuous eyes on the gallery.

"Who will lead you then,... Dumbledore? I think not. No, I believe that Dumbledore will shortly be occupying the cell he intended for my person once the M.L.E.S. finishes investigating the information I provided to them."

Dumbledore slumped in his chair, vacantly pondering how his dreams of continued glory had apparently twisted into a nightmare wrought by his own greed and envy.

_The crowd shouted for Harry's release. For Dumbledore's head. For Harry to lead them in the coming battle…_

When the gallery finally quieted down to anxious murmurings of hope, Harry continued.

He raised his manacled hands meaningfully. "What would you have me do? I am your chained prisoner. Yesterday's hero is today's prisoner; thanks to the machinations of the great puppeteer, Dumbledore, and the betrayal of my friends and comrades, Voldemort still run's free to commit future atrocities. You would have me forget the many harms the magical world has reaped at my expense? Thank you,..no."

At this condemnation, Harry closed his eyes and murmured softly. Waves off power washed out from his body and buffeted the crowded court room around him. People gasped in terror at his impossible display of power, despite his still wearing magical inhibitors.

His manacles dissolved into a puddle of molten metal at his feet and his eyes snapped open.

Emerald green fire danced in his eyes. His voice echoed hollowly across the hall.

"**No more**. No more will I serve as the magical world's scapegoat. Voldemort can have the lot of you, if he's the stomach for it. "

"B-But , H-Harry..?" Dumbledore gasped out pleadingly. "The prophecy?"

Harry smiled coldly as he recounted the prophecy to the stunned court room.

"Neither can live while the other survives." Harry recanted. " Voldemort has his mad thirst for power, what reason have I to live? No family is left to me. I am betrayed by those I thought friends and endlessly vilified by the press and the wizarding public…

"**LOOK AT ME!" **he thundered. "Not so much as a shred of dignity have you afforded me. No food or water for days while dementor's delighted in my torment. No medical care , left to suffer in pain and despondency while chained to a cold, damp wall amidst my own filth."

Harry paused to wipe at a single tear from his eye.

"You didn't even have enough compassion left in your mercenary hearts for a scrap of clothes to cover my shame before dragging me in here today. First; you threaten me with death if I do not submit to a life of imprisonment, just so you can rob me of my remaining inheritance. Now, you have the audacity to beg for my assistance? "

"**I want nothing more to do with you. Do not seek me out, for I will not help**."

In a flash of emerald light, Harry disappeared from the courtroom. His tormentor's left both stricken with guilt over their behavior and despondent over their bleak futures.


	3. Chapter 3: A bleak future

**Chapter Three: A Bleak Future**

**Ten Years Later-**

It had taken Voldemort several painstaking years to rebuild his forces, but rebuild he had. Now he was greater and more terrible than ever before. Open war ravaged Britain and other parts of the European theatre. Both magical and non-magical governments we're crumbling as Harry predicted.

When all was said and done, Dumbledore had died in Azkaban after serving only a few scant months of a twenty year sentence, having been convicted of fraud, theft and coercion; as Harry predicted.

Voldemort's victory over the British magical world appeared a certainty, no longer a matter of if, but when.

The newspaper's headlines screamed and begged for Harry's assistance. The Magical Ministry dispatched couriers to enlist support.

Harry was never located. If he did know or even cared what was happening in the British Magical World,... then true to his word,.. Harry would not help.

* * *

><p><strong>June Fourteenth, 2009<strong>

"Base, this is Light-Strike Alpha, Light-Strike one reporting- Over."

"This is base Light-Strike Alpha, go ahead- Over."

"Base, all civilians rescued and accounted for. No casualties. Injuries are minimal and non-life threatening. Request a medi-squad to receive incoming civilians at Bay One. Repeat Bay One. ETA 0400 hours- Over."

"This is base Light- Strike one, acknowledged. Will have medi-squad stand by at Bay One. Commander Taylor requests status of Light-Strike Alpha?-Over."

"Report minor injuries to Light-Strike Three-Over."

"Acknowledged Light-Strike One. My compliments to Light-Strike team Alpha. Good hunting, Jamie. Report for debriefing in my office upon your arrival. The rest of Team Alpha is on paid leave for two well deserved weeks- effective immediately. Command out. "

At just under six feet and a little over one hundred and eighty pounds, Jamie Harrison was perhaps the smallest member of the Light-Strike corp. He was also the most powerful wizard in the entire corp., and that was saying something as Light-Strike had a reputation for only taking the best of the best. On the surface he looked average, very average. He sported shoulder length sandy-brown hair, brown eyes and a tan complexion like the rest of the population in Long Beach, California.

That was the surface. Underneath the bland exterior that the rest of the world saw and took for granted, was a seething volcano. Pound for pound, Jamie was the strongest member of Team Light-Strike In any tangible measurement, and by most of the intangibles as well.

A well honed physique, the result of long years of dedicated training, afforded Jamie Harrison unparalleled strength and speed.

Light-Strike Training combined the best of both elements of the magical and non-magical world, and Jamie was adept in all aspects of Light-Strike training, and more.

In defensive and offensive spell casting, Jamie was beyond internationally recognized, 'hit wizard' standards.

It was after that, that his personal file really got interesting:

He held expert, if not mastery, level certifications in; concealment, infiltration, long range apparition, multiple apparition, potions, transfiguration, charms, silent casting, wandless casting, healing and emergency triage, the list went on and on with a notable proficiency in flying.

Jamie was a gifted flyer and his comrades always chided him that he could easily win himself a spot on any professional quidditch team if he ever left the corp.

That was only his magical qualifications. In non-magical disciplines his dossier was even more impressive:

Martial arts master in three disciplines of both unarmed combat and edged weapons , small arms and heavy arms expert, demolition expert . Adept at communications, he could speak four languages fluidly. Master level tactician and last, but most importantly, Jamie was a natural born leader. Given his choice, however, Jamie preferred to work alone.

Commander Jeffrey Taylor thumbed through Captain Harrison's file for the second time today. It seemed that no matter how many times he read through the information within, he always found something new and intriguing. The most intriguing thing of all was just exactly who is Jamie Harrison?

The file listed all of Harrison's qualifications that he had obtained since his inception and for the two years he had attended the prestigious Salem Academy prior to his enlistment, but before that... nothing. There was nothing in Jamie Harrison's file regarding his history prior to eight years ago, nothing except his Newt scores which he had obtained from having passed Salem's entrance exams. No past Owls or Newts certificates from an accredited school. No birth certificate. No next of kin listed- Nothing.

Hell, he couldn't even recall Jamie having ever mentioned any family or friends. He only mentioned in passing once that he had studied abroad.

_Must have been a helluva private tutor?_

Wizards like Jamie didn't pass their NEWTs with those kinds of scores having gone to a standardize curriculum, because; those kinds of scores drew a lot of attention, especially from secondary schools and from covert organizations like Light-Strike and their somewhat lessercounterpart; Britain's Unspeakables. Jamie's scores made him a top candidate. Hell, they didn't even have a scale to effectively measure how high he had scored on his DADA exam.

In retrospect, it probably didn't matter where he came from, just that he was here. Now, the only problem was ensuring that he stayed.

With another successful mission to his credit, command had issued its approval to elevate Captain Harrison to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. The youngest such to reach command level since the inception of Light-Strike, and the most deservedly so.

Captain, correction, Lt. Commander Harrison's tour of duty was drawing to a close, and his subsequent promotion was but the first of several edicts that Command was instigating to ensure re-enlistment of their most valuable personnel.

Jamie Harrison was deemed non-expendable, a distinction that no other member of Light-Strike could boast.

It was placed in Commander Taylor's capable hands; the responsibility of securing Lt. Commander Harrison's continued enlistment within the ranks of the corp. He was considered the present and future of Light-Strike. No expense was to be spared in obtaining his continued service.

A Knocking at the door disrupted Commander Taylor's thoughts.

"Come in"

The object of Commander Taylor's musings entered his office "Captain Jamie Harrison reporting as ordered, sir." Harrison stood at attention, his eyes locked forward.

Though he was wearing standard fatigues, the commendation ribbons on Harrison's dress blouse- nearly blocked out the entire half of his tunic. Jamie Harrison was Light-Strikes most decorated veteran. A distinction he'd earned in only six years of service.

Harrison had originally enlisted for four years with an additional two year option that had guaranteed him a twenty percent raise. That option was expiring and command had made it, **priority one** that they secure his re-enlistment for as long as he was willing to sign for; a life commitment was considered preferable.

"At ease, captain,.. or should I say, Lt. Commander?" Taylor smirked knowingly

Harrison's jaw dropped, "Sir?" he asked puzzled.

"You heard me, right, Jamie. Command is promoting you. It's now, Lt. Commander Jamie Harrison. Congratulations, Commander." Taylor rose and proffered his hand to his surprised junior officer.

"T-Thank you ,sir." Jamie stammered out slightly stunned.

"No thanks are necessary. You've earned it, earned it and then some, Jamie. I finished reading your report on your mission to Nicaragua, impressive work to say the least. There's only one discrepancy that sticks out in my mind? Comparing your report to Lt. Anderson's, there seems to be some confusion as to who is responsible for the saving of the six kidnapped children's lives. You claim in your report that your team not only dispatched the cultists responsible for the kidnappings, but also rescued the children themselves. However, Lt. Anderson seems to feel that you, yourself, were largely responsible for the success of your mission? I don't suppose you have anything to add that might shed some light on this difference of opinion, or wish to alter your report accordingly?" Commander Taylor questioned skeptically.

"No, sir. I stand behind the validity of my report and my endorsement that Lt. Anderson be considered for promotion to the rank of Captain and given command of his own team. I further recommend that Sgt. Warner receive promotion to the rank of Lieutenant and be made Anderson's second, as he and Anderson have an excellent rapport and it would be to both theirs and the corps benefit to maintain the continuity of a successful pairing."

"An excellent endorsement, one that I'm sure is not only valid but in the best interest of the corp. My only recommendation for such an endorsement is that its source carries through on it. You're a commander now, Jamie. It is within your rights as a command level officer to promote operatives within your command. If you feel that Anderson and Warner are deserving, then take the initiative and promote them yourself." Taylor returned incredulously.

Harrison paused considering. His pinched expression relaxed once he'd made a decision.

"I would, sir, but I can't as I'm not a command level officer. I refuse promotion at this time,.. respectfully."

"What?" Taylor blurted out stunned, pitching forward in his chair.

"It's simple, sir. As a commander I would be required to train and oversee the teams within my command. As Commanders are non-expendable personnel, I would not be allowed to participate in any missions. I feel it would best serve the corp., and my own conscious, if I remained a captain, a team leader, for the foreseeable future. I believe I'm most effective as a field operative, sir. I do appreciate the offer, but must refuse, respectfully."

Commander Jeffrey Taylor sat staring in stunned disbelief, his jaw working soundlessly. No one,.. no one had ever turned down a command level promotion before. It was absolutely unprecedented?

"Jamie. I.. I'm shocked to say the least, but… proud, very proud of you as well." he stammered incredulously, coming to the same conclusion as his subordinate. "You are, of course, correct that you are invaluable as a field operative. So much so, that Light-Strike command has made it a priority that we retain your services. Next week your two year option expires. We want,.. we need you, Jamie, now more than ever." Taylor commented in a worried tone that caught the Captain's attention.

"Why, what's so important, sir?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Jamie, at ease already. My name is Jeff, remember? To answer your question; the trouble across the pond with this Voldemort character has everyone in a stir."

Taylor never noticed Harrison's face blanch, at the mention of Voldemort's name, as he continued his explanation.

"It seems this character is really giving the Brits a time of it. So much so, that they've sent out a general alert for any and all assistance. They've even gone so far as to offer Light-Strike command a million galleon contract for the capture or kill of Voldemort himself. By the sound of things, they'd prefer the latter, but don't think we're capable,.. if you can believe that?" Taylor chuckled incredulously.

To date; Light-Strike had never ultimately failed in any mission it undertook. They'd had their share of casualties and setbacks, but had never failed to successfully complete a mission, any mission, and their reputation preceded them the world over.

"Command is considering sending in teams Beta and Gamma to mop up Voldemort's arse. Naturally we'd prefer to send in your team, but you're on a scheduled, and much over do, leave, and the Brit's aren't willing to wait. Seems their Minister, what was the name.. oh yeah, Weasley. It seems Minister Weasley is pushing the panic button. He reported to command that his auror force is nearly decimated and his Unspeakables are stretched to the limit and are barely maintaining the status quo. Citizens are losing faith in his administration and are bugging out, fearing the immanent fall of the British Magical Ministry. Apparently this Voldemort's a nasty, murdering S.O.B. that needs to be put down before he gets his hands on the British Ministry. Command thinks this guy isn't going to be satisfied with just conquering Britain, not that we intend to let that happen? They seem to think this lunatic has designs on the rest of the world to boot!"

"He does." Harrison added with a tinge of regret.

Surprised by his subordinates response, limited though it was, it was one of the few tidbits of anything even remotely personal shared by the very private, Capatin Jamie Harrison.

"Sounds like you've had some experience with this _Dark Arse_?" Taylor prodded.

"He killed my parents" Jamie returned stoically.

"What?" Taylor pitched forward in his chair, a look of embarrassment on his face. "Christ, Jamie! I'm sorry. I had no idea. That being the case, it's just as well that you're on leave. Command would never send in your team, not with you having a personal tie with this character. Though,..?" Taylor paused to consider, a cunning look in his eyes. "If you really wanted a crack at this character, I'm sure command would reconsider that stand, if you'd be willing to re-enlist?" The commander attempted to coerce.

"That's hardly an enlistment incentive." Harrison returned disinterested.

"Hey don't get me wrong, Jamie. I'm sure the sky's the limit salary wise, and I'm sure you could even get them to go concede field operations despite your promotion to command level rank. They'd no doubt rather risk you in the field then risk losing your services altogether, if you decided against re-enlisting. You could parlay this into quite a coup."

Jamie slumped down wearily into a nearby chair. "Do you really think they're going to send in Beta and Gamma?" he asked apprehensively

"Well, nothings set in stone, but it looks like it's in the works. I don't think Command's willing to let the British Ministry fall , let alone willing to risk Voldemort taking an interest in our direction. Besides, a million galleons could fund a year's operation."

"What are we, mercenaries?" Harrison bit out disdainfully.

"Certainly not!" Taylor shot back offended. "You can see that we've a vested interest in eliminating Voldemort. He's a rabid dog and he needs to be put down. Balancing our operational budget in the process is merely an added bonus. It's not like it's a question that we'll earn the money? Light-Strike has never failed to achieve an objective, and Voldemort is certainly not going to be the first." He boasted incredulously.

Jamie Harrison brushed a finger across his lips as he considered how to impress upon the commander the futility of this venture. The direct approach seemed best. "If you send Beta and Gamma in, they'll do some damage, hell they may even get lucky and eliminate Voldemort's forces entirely, but, They-Won't-Get-Voldemort." He stressed. "Most likely they'll end up dead, and you'll lose twelve exemplary operatives. There was a prophecy made nearly thirty years ago that said…"

"Not that damn, prophecy about the 'boy who lived' and Voldemort squaring off?" Taylor interrupted, waving his junior off.

"You know the prophecy that I'm referring to?" Jamie returned in surprise.

"Hell, everybody knows that damn prophecy. Potter dropped out of sight years ago. Most people think he's dead and because of it they're all afraid to go up against Voldemort because they think he's invincible to anyone, **but** Potter. Hit him with a good _killing curse_ and he'll drop like anyone else." Taylor suggested.

Jamie shrugged his shoulders incredulously. "It's been tried, doesn't work. He's immune to the _killing curse_ because Potter's immune to the _killing curse_. Voldemort performed a ritual some years back when he acquired a new body. He used some of Potter's blood and with it; he inherited Potter's immunity to the _killing curse_. Shame that."

Taylor eyed his subordinate cunningly. "You seem well acquainted with all of this, as if you're speaking from personal experience. Is there anything you want to tell me, Jamie?"

Jamie Harrison locked eyes with Commander Taylor. He trusted Jeff Taylor. He'd been to his house. His wife, Gail, had made him welcome in her home. His eldest daughter, Julia, had a bit of a crush on Jamie, but, the walls of her room were covered with Harry Potter posters- her first crush.

_Maybe it was time… _

"Do you and Gail have anything planned for tonight, Jeff?" Jamie decided to take a chance.

Taylor quirked an eyebrow. "You know we usually do a family cook out on Friday nights. You have an open invitation, Jamie. Gail and the kids would love to see you, especially, Julia." Taylor chuckled amused by his daughters growing infatuation with Jamie.

"Just the family will be there?" Jamie continued cautiously.

"Just the family." Taylor confirmed reassuringly.

Jamie sighed in resignation. "Hold off on sending Beta and Gamma until I've had a chance to explain. If need be, make it a condition of my re-enlistment. If command wants me that bad, then they can certainly hold off getting two teams needlessly killed, at least for a couple of days?"

"Alright, Jamie. I'll see to it personally. Is there anything else for now?"

Jamie smirked. "Tell Gail if she makes her apple pie, I'll bring a bottle of her favorite white wine."

"Deal"

* * *

><p>Later that evening….<p>

Jamie Harrison pulled up to a beautifully maintained white two story home in the suburbs of southern Orange County. He drove a vintage red with a white leather interior, convertible; a 1967 'shark' corvette. It was one of the few luxuries he allowed himself in an otherwise very structured, very private lifestyle, the majority of which was spent training and studying.

He wore night dark, green dragon hide boots, black jeans and a dark green t-shirt. His brown, sun streaked hair was windswept from driving with the top down. He loved the feeling; it was like riding a broom.

Jamie had a bottle of fine white-wine in one hand, and a box of chocolate frog cards under the other. It was a **special** occasion, so he had also rought a bouquet of white roses. He could still remember what it was like to crush on someone. Although he didn't want to give the barely adult girl any false hopes, he could still be a gentleman and treat a young attractive witch like she deserved to be treated.

Jamie had barely knocked on the front door when a squeal of delight greeted him, "Jamie!"

"Hey, Julia" He presented the willowy blonde witch with the bouquet he's brought.

"For me?" Julia asked wide eyed.

"Of course"

"Oh, Jamie, they're beautiful. Thank you."

"You're quite welcome. May I come in?" He inquired hopefully as Julia was still gapping at him , blocking the entrance.

"S-Sorry, yes, p-please." Julia stammered, blushing embarrassedly.

Jamie greeted the Taylor family, relishing the chance to spend some time with friends in whom he could trust and subsequently, relax around. After dinner, Max and Jennifer Taylor were allowed one chocolate frog each, by their mother.

"I haven't seen chocolate frogs before? Where ever did you find them, Jamie?"Gail Taylor asked quizzically.

Her husband already had warned her that it was going to undoubtedly be an interesting evening, and she was definitely curious, though delighted by her young friend's unplanned visit. Though Jeff had assured her that Jamie probably thought of himself as too old for her daughter, Jamie looked almost younger than Julia's eighteen years.

The more powerful a wizard or witch was, the slower they aged and the longer they retained their subsequent youth and vitality. That being the case, than either he was more powerful than Merlin himself, or he was much younger than he claimed.

As Julia was more mature than her years, Gail still had hopes for a budding romance between the two of them. Certainly Julia was interested in the prospect, given the secret glances she stole at Jamie when she thought no one was watching.

"Chocolate Frogs are popular in Europe, especially around England. I've been saving this box for a special occasion.

"Look, Julia" Max blurted out excitedly. "I-I got a Harry Poffer card wiff my frog." Max mumbled out through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Hey!" Max cried indignantly as his sister snapped the card greedily from his reach.

"Oh, can I have it? I'll give you a sickle for it, Max?" Julia offered ogling the picture on the card.

"He's so dreamy." Julia gasped.

"You think so?" Jamie asked skeptically.

"Mmm, Hmm" Julia hummed in reply.

Strangely Jamie blushed at her response.

"Give it back" Max protested.

Jamie reached out and withdrew the card from Julia's grasping fingers. He grimaced at the picture of the young green eyed wizard waving back at him, and handed the card back to a waiting Max.

"There's more Potter cards in the box. It's a special assortment I was given after the pictures were taken. Suppose they figured I actually had anyone who'd actually want one?" he lamented off handedly, letting a hint of the accent he kept hidden bleed into his voice.

"Jamie?" Gail began, sparing an uncertain glance with her husband.

Jamie Harrison wandlessly cast several silencing and privacy charms around the Taylor's patio.

Gail and her children were awed by the careless display of magic that was well beyond all but even the most powerful wizards.

"I'm sorry to lay this on your shoulders, Jeff." Jamie vaguely apologized before explaining. "But I figured you'd need to hear the whole story and see with your own eyes before you'd believe that I had a good reason for keeping the other teams from going to England. I meant it when I said they'd find nothing but death and destruction there,... I should know."

Jamie plucked the pair of cosmetic contact lens he wore from his eyes, shaded to make his green eyes appear brown, and dropped the _glamour charm_ he wore 24/7, hiding a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"Jamie Harrison is really Harry James Potter." he intoned stoically in a definite British accent, amid startled gasps from all but Jeff Taylor.

Startled gasps echoed around the Taylor patio.

"I-I'm sorry to have deceived you, but I t-think that once you've heard my story, my real story, then you'll understand why I've kept my identity a secret."

A-Alright, Jam,.. I mean Harry?" Gail began uncertainly. "I'm not sure what to call you?"She said apologetically.

He smiled sheepishly at her dilemma. "Jamie is fine. The better part of my life has been spent as 'Jamie'."

Noticing the stunned look on Julia's face he reassured her. "You needn't be afraid of me, Julia? Jamie and Harry are pretty much the same person with just a few cosmetic changes. I'm pretty harmless where most are concerned."

Jeff Taylor snorted incredulously at this admonishment, earning himself a slap on the arm from his wife.

Satisfied with the tentative smile that Julia offered him, he turned his attention back to Jeff and Gail. "I think Max and Jenny are old enough to hear most of this, Julia a bit more than that, but at a certain point I think things are going to have to be just between the three of us?" Jamie directed.

Jeff Taylor nodded his understanding. "Okay, Jamie." Then he turned his 'no argument ' look on his children and cautioned. "What Jamie has to say **stays here**," He stressed. "It stays in the family. You are never to speak of it outside of the family. **Got it**?"

"Y-Yes, Dad." A chorus of nervous agreements answered him. They knew what their father did for a living and when he said things were to be kept secret, it was for their own good that they did so.

"The floor's yours, Jamie" Gail prompted.

Harry/Jamie began his story, starting with that fateful Halloween night almost twenty-eight years ago, when he unwittingly became the 'boy who lived'.

When he got to the final task of the 'Tri-Wizard's tournament', he judged it time to have the younger children leave, lest they nightmare tonight.

"Awe, come on, Jamie?" Max argued. "The story's getting really good. Mom, can't we stay up for more?" Max pleaded his case.

Gail Taylor shook her head. "If Jamie says no, then it's no, Max. Besides, it's not just a story is it?" Gail asked incredulously. "This was, .. is, really your life, isn't it, Jamie?"

He nodded with a half hearted smile.

After Max and Jennifer left to get ready for bed, Jamie continued his tale. When he got to the 'Final Battle at Hogwarts, he asked Julia to wait inside while he finished his story.

Fighting the urge to argue, Julia instead asked. "W-Will you come in to say good night before you leave?" She was surprised by her own forwardness.

Jamie nodded his head.

After Julia excused herself and went in, he finished his story. Telling Jeff and Gail how his friends betrayed and imprisoned him. How he left England vowing never to return. How he reestablished himself in the states and found his way into Light-Strike.

Jamie knuckled a tear away from his eye as he continued. "I don't want to go back. I've never wanted to go back. I've made a life here for myself. I have some friends in the corps. It's maybe not a lot by some people's standards, but it's more than I'd dared to hope for when I left England."

"You're still going back though, aren't you, Jamie?" Gail knowingly returned.

Jamie nodded."I guess it's time. Fate seems to always find a way to drag me back into things. I guess maybe it **is** my destiny."

"Then let's go in force and kick Voldemort's ass but good." Jeff Taylor added.

Jamie shook his head smiling gratefully. "No. Thanks, but,.. no. I'll do this myself. I'll not have anyone from Light-Strike needlessly risking themself on my account. The prophecy says him or me, the others don't factor into the equation."

"Don't be stupid, Jamie. You can't take on Voldemort's bunch all by yourself?" Jeff returned vehemently.

"I don't need to take on all the Death Eater's, not that that is a bad idea? I just need to take the head to kill the snake. Get rid of Voldemort and the rest will turn on each other, fold or run. They've always been a bunch of cowardly thugs."

Jeff Taylor eyed him skeptically, but didn't argue further. He knew it would be a losing battle.

"Well then,.. how much time do you need and what can we do to help you?"

Gail gasped and rounded on her husband. "You're not seriously contemplating letting him go back there alone? You heard what he said? This Voldemort character uses every kind of Dark creature in existence. After ten years of recruiting, he probably has a force big enough to take half of Europe. It's suicide!"

"It's my destiny, Gail" Jamie returned solemnly.

"Dying is not a **destiny**!" Gail snapped back with venom.

"Jesus, Jamie! Listen to yourself? They're a bunch of murdering terrorists. How can you sit here and talk like going up against a monster like that is no big deal?"

"Gail, honey.." Jeff reached out to calm his wife, but she shook him off .

"Don't 'Gail honey' me, Jeff. You're not going, Jamie. You're our friend, a part of this family, and I forbid you from going there alone."

Gail searched his eyes for some sense that he would reconsider. Seeing his reluctance she kneeled in front of him and took his hand.

"Please, Jamie?"

He shook his head sadly.

Gail began to tear up. "She wouldn't want you to go alone, Jamie." Gail whispered desperately.

"Julia?" He asked puzzled.

"Hermione. Hermione Granger wouldn't want this. I'm your friend too, I know."

Jamie reeled in shock. "H-How could you..? I don't.., I can't..?" He hadn't dared let himself think about Hermione in years. It hurt too much. Even ten years later it hurt as much as it did that day he saw her fall on the battlefield.

"I know because the way your voice catches when you talk about her. The way your eyes go out of focus when you remember her." Gail explained how she knew he had deep feelings for Hermione.

"She no doubt felt the same way, and as a woman who feels the same way about the man she loves, I can tell you she wouldn't accept you going alone."

Jamie lurched to his feet, pulling himself out of Gail's grasp and turning away.

"M-Maybe not" His voice carried back to them tremulously. "But if she hadn't c-come with me, she wouldn't have d-died."

"You lose people in a battle, Jamie. You know that better than anyone. We've all lost friends before."Jeff pointed out.

Jamie's back began to shake. Gail swallowed the lump rising in her throat as she watched him cry silently. After a few moments, he choked back his sobs and all but whispered.

"Not just a friend. I l-loved her. I s-till do."

Gail turned a tear streaked face toward her husband as she spoke, reaching out to embrace Jamie's back. "She still wouldn't want you to go alone, Jamie. I know she wouldn't."

"I-I never g-got the c-chance to t-tell her, to t-tell her that I loved her." He wept softly.

"She knew, Jamie. Trust me,.. she knew." Gail squeezed him reassuringly.

"Y-You think?" He asked hopefully.

Gail nodded into his back, holding him fiercely from behind.

"You're young, Jamie, so young. You could fall in love again." Gail offered. "There's someone inside that would give anything for the chance to love you." She encouraged pointedly.

"Julia was crushing on Harry Potter, and then it was Jamie. Now I've gone and made a right mess of things by mixing the two into one bloody package." His voice was laced with frustration.

"Why did you tell her and the rest of us then?"

"I-I know that if I do this, if I return to England, it's going to just start up the whole 'boy who lived' circus again. Once Voldemort's gone, they'll know for sure that I'm still alive. It would only be a matter of time before they found me out. The damn press is relentless that way. I didn't want you all to find out who I am, period, but sans that; I couldn't let you find out by seeing my face smeared across some headline, or finding some reporters camped out on your door step."

"Is that the only reason, Jamie?" Jeff asked skeptically.

He shook his head reluctantly. "It's hard for me to trust someone, I either do or I don't. I can't very well expect you to trust me in return if I'm keeping secrets, especially not this one. I knew you'd need a damn good reason to go along with this and not send in the strike teams, Jeff. I think I've given you one tonight, haven't I?"

Jeff nodded somberly.

Jamie moved away from Gail and met Jeff's eyes. "I'll be signing out a few necessities tomorrow at 0700. Wait twenty-four hours before you notify the British Ministry that you have an agent in place, doing reconnaissance. I want to make sure that Light-Strike gets credit for Voldemort's demise. Make sure that the British Ministry pays up on their million galleon offer to Light-Strike; they have a tendency to renege. I'll return within seventy–two hours. After that, we'll talk about my re-enlistment options. Ok?"

Jeff nodded, but his wife was anything, but 'ok' with Jamie's plan.

"Three days?" She hissed incredulously. "How are you possibly going to do in three days what the British Ministry hasn't been able to do in the ten years you've been gone?"

Jamie shrugged indifferently. "Simple really, I'm going to offer Moldy-shorts something he can't resist. When he comes out to play, I'm going to kill him."

Gail gapped. "Just like that, huh?"

"Just like that."

"Oh, forgive me almighty, Merlin. This humble mortal had no idea I was standing in your magnificent presence." She sneered sarcastically.

Jamie scowled. "Some people have no faith."

Jamie moved off the Taylor's patio, putting some distance between himself and his friends. He closed his eyes in concentration, letting the solace of the night fill his being. He was in his element now.

A moment later a shimmering golden aura encased his body. A gentle breeze came out of nowhere and the sounds of the night around them silenced in dread anticipation. His eyes snapped open and green fire erupted from his eye sockets.

The Taylors staggered back in awe as great waves of power washed over them like the unrelenting tides of the ocean. The air crackled with energy, raising the hairs on the back of their necks.

The once gentle breeze in the garden rose to a focused hurricane force wind that tore an enormous oak tree out of the ground as if it were a twig. Harry snapped his fingers and the winds died and the tree replanted itself in the garden with a deafening '**Whump'**, knocking the gapping Taylor's from their very feet.

"Voldemort's a wuss." Jamie declared smartly. His glowing aura faded and winked out of existence.

Thunder echoed away ominously overhead and shortly after the sounds of the night slowly returned around their garden.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll just stop in and wish Julia a good night. I'll see myself out." He offered in passing.

The Taylor's sat gapping on their lawn in absolute shock for some time after he's already left.

Jamie found Julia upstairs tucking in her, still excited, younger siblings.

"You heard him, Julia. It's all true, all the stories dad used to tell us about him fighting a basilisk and a dragon."

"Yes,.. but that wasn't at the same time though." Jamie said smirking as he entered the children's bedroom.

Julia spun around startled at the intrusion.

"Are you gonna go back and fight the evil wizard, Jamie." Jennifer asked him frightened.

"Nah. Anybody can take care of Moldy-Pajamas; they don't need me for something so easy." Jamie returned chuckling, putting their fears to rest.

After the children were settled, Julia led Jamie to her room. He pulled up short in her doorway, his eyes scanning the pictures of Harry Potter scattered on the young witch's walls.

"Do you know why I have these pictures, Jamie. Why I really have them?" Julia asked cryptically. "I mean besides the obvious crush I **used** to have?" She added with a faint blush

He turned puzzled eyes on his blonde companion.

"I kept them to remind me that there are people out there fighting evil like you and my father. That you weren't alone. That you didn't have to do it all yourselves, but I was wrong wasn't I, Jamie? It is just you. It was you then and it's you now."

He just stared at her in silent contemplation realizing she didn't really expect an answer, nor would she accept any, for that matter. Like her mother, when she made up her mind, that was it.

After a long pause, Julia's sardonic expression turned to one of worry.

"You're going back, aren't you? You're going back to England to fight him?" she accused knowingly.

Not for the first time tonight he was reminded at just how mature Julia was for a witch her age, just like… Hermione

He shook himself from those thoughts.

"I'm on leave this week. Command has other plans for dealing with Voldemort." He responded with his most convincing expression.

"You're lying to me, Jamie." Julia shot back almost immediately, seeing thru his subterfuge.

"You're going back because it's what he would do; Harry Potter. It's like you said, Jamie, you're not all that different except a few cosmetic changes."

Julia's voice was laced with regret as she continued.

"Even if you do somehow manage to survive, you're not coming back are you? You're going to reinvent yourself someplace else and start over- alone. Don't you see Jamie? Don't you understand that it doesn't have to be like that? Come back here to me, er ,. to us, to people who love you and care about you." she pleaded with him, ignoring the tears welling at the corners of her eyes.

"After I kick his arse, I am coming back. My life is here now. It's not in England. I'm not sure it ever was." He tried to reassure her as much as himself.

Seeing her brightening, hopeful expression, he continued cautiously. "I'm only doing this so that I can finally be free of Voldemort, that damn prophecy and the whole idiotic Harry Potter legend. I'm hoping that I'll be able to find some measure of peace here. That the whole Harry Potter thing will blow over and finally be laid to rest, but,.. that may not happen, Julia. The British press had always been obsessed where Harry Potter was concerned; martyring me one day, vilifying me the next. If they find me, it'll be a three ring circus around here. You're family doesn't deserve that, no one does." He wrung his hands through his hair in mounting frustration as he tried to make her understand.

Julia smirked knowingly, counting off on her fingers. "You're trying to tell me that it isn't safe being around you. That having a relationship with you is impossible. That I'll wish I'd never even considered such a thing. That if worst comes to worse, you'll leave and start over someplace else. Isn't that right?"

Jamie sighed and nodded. "You left out that I'm too old for you in the first place. That you should be discovering love with someone your own age, someone who, like yourself, doesn't come with a ton of emotional baggage, someone who deserves you."

Julia smiled sadly. "What about what I want, or are you going to tell me I'm too young to know what I want?"

"No,.. You're not too young. You're a full grown, adult witch, and a lovely one at that." Julia blushed prettily at his compliment. "But I have learned one lesson very well in my life, and that is; we seldom get what we want, or even what we deserve. Many times it's quite the opposite in fact.

"What I was really thinking, however, is that you don't really know me, not really. You know some of my story, but not how I feel about things. Not what's inside of me?"

Julia raised an eyebrow, taking up his challenge. "I know that you're brave and intelligent. I know that you'd have to be to be able to survive even half the things that Dad says you've done. The ribbons on your dress uniform are a testament to that. I know that you have a kind heart and like children, that's obvious by how you are with Max and Jenny. I know that you're very humble and polite; that you're a gentleman. I also know that you're lonely, very lonely. Mom and I can both see the longing in your eyes. Its heart breaking, Jamie. Seeing someone you care about in so much pain. And now I think I know why? It's Hermione, isn't it? The friend you talked about in your story? Your eyes changed when you talked about her. They,.. you seemed so lost, so sad. What happened to her?" Julia asked with compassionate curiosity.

Jamie stared at the floor hard and acknowledged. "The women in this family are amazingly intuitive, aren't they?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Julia's soft lips. "Loving and passionate as well." she agreed." But you haven't answered my question yet."

Jamie smirked. "You can add stubborn to that list." After a moment's pause his eyes grew distant as he added. "Hermione is dead. She died in the last battle with Voldemort. Because of our supposed friends having betrayed us for their own petty designs, she ultimately died for nothing.

Thankfully, Julia made no attempt to refute his claim.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Jamie made to excuse himself. "I.. need to get going. I've got an early day tomorrow. Dark Lords to kill and all that." His attempt to make light of the situation fell short, gauging by the icy expression she gave him.

Julia's eyes hardened. "It's not funny, Jamie. None of this is. I used to think meeting Harry Potter would be a dream come true, but the reality of all this isn't what the fairy tales have made it out to be, is it?"

Jamie nodded slowly. "It's more of a nightmare, really." he agreed.

"Everyone has such fanciful expectations of what it must be like to be a hero, but being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it? Its pain and fear, loss and heartache. Then, when it's finally all over and everyone's celebrating, that's when the quilt hits, isn't it? That's when the toll of being everyone's hero comes due."

Harry/Jamie stared wide eyed at Julia compassionate expression, marveling in the young women's insight.

"I…" He left off, not really knowing what he wanted to say, or how to say it.

Julia reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly. "Do what you have to do and then come home, Jamie. When it's over,.. if you need someone to talk to, someone who'll understand,.. I'll be here for you." She promised before kissing his cheek softly and turning away into her bedroom, closing the door gently behind her.

Harry walked downstairs, absently mulling over Julia's words as he passed quietly out of the Taylor's home.

The Taylor's were already good friends.

_Julia could be more if he'd let her. _

_Where did that thought come from? No, I couldn't. She doesn't want me? She wants bloody Harry Potter, the 'boy who lived'. No one would ever want just Harry or Jamie_. _They all wanted the fairy tale. Their 'Knight in Shining Armor'…._

_Maybe it's time I disappeared again. _He considered forlornly.

_When will it end? Will it end with Voldemort? Somehow.,.. I don't think so._


	4. Chapter 4: Once more into the breech

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

A/N: Sorry for not having posted sooner. For those avid readers; I've been working diligently toward completing "The Weapon" and will have a lengthy chapter up in a few days. I hope to finish that story by Christmas- you'll see why. MK-ONE

**Chapter Four: Once More into the Breech**

Jamie Harrison zipped up the closure on the large black duffle at his feet. He was bringing a bit more equipment and ammunition than what he would actually need, but he wanted to give the impression that he was going to war, not simply orchestrating an extermination.

His brief display of raw elemental power at the Taylor's was nothing more than a bit of glamour, some window dressing meant to impress his friends, which it did. His real powers, (not that his elemental control wasn't actually real and impressive by itself), were a bit more impressive, though not exactly in a good way.

Harry Potter had left England a powerful wizard and had morphed himself into Jamie Harrison, a top operative with an impressive array of abilities. That was the surface, the window dressing; underneath it all was Harry Potter. Still a tremendously powerful wizard, but one that had morphed himself into something more than just Jamie Harrison.

He became something incredibly powerful. Something the world has not seen in an age. The world with all its preconceived notions, bigotries and bias's would not readily embrace someone that harbored the powers that Harry did. He would be feared and shunned at best. More likely, he'd be hunted and killed.

The magical world was not open minded enough to see someone like Harry as a force for the light, not when his very existence was one that embraced the dark.

For Harry had become a mage. One who not only wields magic, but is magic. Not just any mage either,..

Harry Potter is a 'Shadow Mage'. A being who walks the realms of twilight. Who wields neither light nor dark magic, but endless shades of gray. For Harry learned one truth from Voldemort; however twisted the Dark Lord viewed said truth.

There is no good nor evil , only power. Neither light, nor dark magic, only power. It is the will of the witch or wizard who wields such magic that determines whether it is for good or evil/light or dark; for his actions lay bear his intent.

Is it evil to put down a mad dog with 'Dark Magic', preventing him from harming or killing an innocent?

By the same token, is it a blessing to restore same mad dog with benevolent 'Light Magic' with the knowing intention of healing a monster thereby allowing it to go out and kill again?

For a _shadow __mage_, such semantics are unnecessary. He either does, or does not.

If he kills, he does so by any means necessary to see the task done. If he saves life, he does so by any means necessary.

He would kill a thousand to save a million.

Knowledge and intent.

Contrary to the edicts of legend, **Shadow****Mages** are not evil, quite the contrary. They are beings who traverse the darkness to preserve the light. Histories vilify them because they are an unknown. What people do not understand, they all too readily fear.

Duty to mankind is their calling. Sacrifice their reward.

Both Harry/Jamie understands this better than anyone, for it is all they have ever known.

Voldemort thinks himself the master of the Dark. He thinks himself both secure and powerful surrounded by dark magic and dark creatures.

He was about to learn the folly of his assumptions, unfortunately, it was not a lesson he would live to profit by.

Jamie checked his watch, though 9 a.m. here, it would be 5 p.m. in England, hardly time for breakfast, still,.. fish and chips appealed and it had been a long time since he'd savored a proper pudding as well.

Jamie adjusted his watch for England time, slung his equipment bag over a shoulder and stepped into one of Light Strike's unused offices.

The blinds were open letting in the west coast's morning sun, but despite the blazing warmth, a corner of the office's interior was shrouded in shadow.

It would do.

He stepped confidently toward the shadowed corner, letting go the tentative hold he maintained over his eldritch abilities.

A night black portal shimmered into being and Jamie stepped through the portal into the _twilight__realm_. Three steps later he emerged from another portal into a shadowed alley of muggle London.

He just traveled some seven thousand or so miles in less than a few seconds. On the Earth it was seven thousand miles, but in the unending twilight realms, it was no more than stepping from one doorway to another.

Time and space folded within the _twilight__realm_. Neither held any meaning there. He'd not explored the possibility, but it was easily conceivable that he could visit far away worlds, other times , or even dimensions with no more effort than he put into traversing the distance from California to England.

Though why he would endeavor to explore such an undertaking he couldn't fathom. The possibility of meeting another Harry Potter in another dimension or repeating the same mistakes over in the past, held no allure for him.

_One cursed existence was more than enough, thank you very much! _

He'd judged his departure from the _twilight__realm_ accurately, as always, and checked into the Hilton hotel, whose alley he'd just vacated moments before.

He would stay in muggle London, affording himself complete discretion and isolation from Magical London.

Though it was highly unlikely that anyone might chance upon recognizing him after ten years, especially with his green eye color and scar currently camouflaged, why take needless risks?

Being on west coast time played well into his plans. He could reconnaissance Voldemort's stronghold tonight. Sleep during the early portion of the day tomorrow. Kill Voldiewort tomorrow night, attend loose ends and be home in time for a few days off to relax and regroup before Saturday night's barbecue back at the Taylor's.

_Sounds like a plan, now if Voldy would just cooperate, everything should just go smashingly._

Treating himself, Jamie went out for a pint and a bite of fish and chips from a nearby pub he'd spotted earlier. Afterwards he'd catch a movie and then head back to his room for an hour kip before he sought out his old adversary for the near final time.

Finding Voldemort was easier that traversing from the west coast to London.

All he had to do was enter the twilight realm of shadow, concentrate on the highest concentration of dark magic in a three hundred kilometer radius, and bingo! Thar she blows!

"_The __old R__iddle __Manor __in __Little __Hangleton_- _seriously?__" _I can't help but chuckle at the unmitigated gall of the man_._

_Can't say I didn't see this one coming. I'd like to fault the British Ministry for yet another glaring example of its inept, short sidedness, but I can't because the place is obviously unplottable and under a seriously large fidelius charm._

_The only reason I can find it is because conventional magic has no meaning within the twilight realm of Shadow Magic. It is but one doorway in a veritable universe of doors. Time, space, dimensions, magic, matter, antimatter, good, evil, light, dark, God, Satan, heaven, hell, everything and nothing. All of it applies,… and none of it._

Thought becomes reality within the twilight realms. _I __find __myself __considering, __not __for __the __first __time, __if __this __was __how __God __created __the __world. __Blasphemy, __I k__now, __but __think __about __it?_

_Deep musing better left for another time, right now, I've got business to attend to._

Dressed entirely in charcoal black, I meld into the shadow haunted night, taking up position on a small hill overlooking the Riddle Manor.

It doesn't take me long to realize that Voldie doesn't intend to cooperate with my half arsed plans for an early week.

_I'll say one thing for the bastard. After ten years he certainly has made paranoia a priority over arrogance._

_Gail was right, Almighty Merlin, himself, couldn't go down there and take on that mob and come out unscathed._

Jamie adjusted the range on his night scope. Even at half a kilometer out, there was no mistaking; Giants and werewolves and trolls- OH MY!

A blur caught the edge of his scope and he scanned across the perimeter of the Manor proper- nothing.

_Hmm?_

He adjusted his scope for wide angle_.__There!_ He adjusted the _ominocular_ feed of his scope, slowing down the image playback.

_Great, __just __great._ _No __wonder __he __couldn__'__t __catch __the __image __at __normal __speed?_ Vampires and night wisps were patrolling the perimeter of the estate. Utilizing their unnaturally augmented speed and agility, they would be all but invisible until they overwhelmed you and left you for dead, or worse.

_So much for the direct approach. A diversion it is, with a nice simultaneous rear echelon assault._

Jamie scanned the window of the manor, increasing his scope's magnification to its highest setting . Though many parts of the interior were poorly lit, there was movement within nearly every room that could be observed on the north side that he was facing.

There's paranoid and then there's paranoid! Voldie wasn't just insulating himself from attack; he has something in the works, something big, and by the look of things; whatever was going down, was going down tonight.

_Great, just great._

_Now there's a wrinkle in my plans. A monkey wrench in the works ect.. ect…_

_I can either; A) Ignore said invasion force and hope that I'll catch Voldie tomorrow night with far less numbers around him as he basks in the afterglow of yet another victory._

_Or I can; B) Attack now with the element of surprise-whoopee! _

_I'd like to forgo my second option, but, by the looks of things all I'll get is personal satisfaction from a job well done if I wait till tomorrow night. That force down there looks tailor made for total annihilation of the Magical Ministry. If the Ministry falls, than Light Strike misses out on its million galleon bounty because it's doubtful that the new self- proclaimed minister,(Voldie), will be willing to pay a million galleons for his own head._

_Hmmm, decisions, decisions?_

_I could flip a coin, but I'm fairly certain it'll come up **HEADS.**_

_It's a good thing I brought my equipment bag along- just in case._

In the darkness, my well practiced fingers remove my equipment bag from one of my zippered breast pockets and wandlessly resize my shrunken bag. First, I remove the fifty caliber and place it on its accompanying tripod with spare ten round clip at the ready. The titanium tipped explosives rounds I've packed ,for just such an occasion, will do nicely.

_Next, the claymores and detonators. Now I'm not an explosive expert, by any stretch of the imagination, but I do know how to get the job done when it comes to eliminating ground personnel. It was with this in mind that I took the special ops claymores along. Packed with silver nitrate, they should do brilliantly against the werewolves and vampires, and may just give the night wisps a bit of a belly ache to boot! It won't kill the night wisps, but then again, I don't plan on being out on the grounds to begin with._

_I pull out my basilisk hide armor. In retrospect, I am at least grateful to Voldie for providing me the finest magical armor available, albeit indirectly._

_The armor can withstand a fifty caliber slug, it may not penetrate the hide, but the impact would still probably kill you. More importantly it can withstand most curses, hexes and jinxes, including a killing curse or two- though I'd rather not put that to the test._

_Gathering the clamores, I attach their remote detonators and place the lot in a satchel around my waist. I won't have time to go digging about haphazardly in a bag with vampires and night wisps roaming around down there._

**It's show time.**

_Steeling my resolve I step into the twilight and emerge on the far side of the manor and place my first of twelve charges._

_Again and again, I shadow step around the exterior placing charge after charge focusing the explosion's inward toward the manor grounds._

_I'd just placed my eighth charge when –**son ****of ****a ****bitch!**_

_I'm pulled off the ground like a rag doll._

_Freakin-Vampire!_

_Sulfuric eyes blaze hungrily up at me as I'm pulled inexorably toward an impossibly wide maw riddled with elongated razor sharp teeth._

_With my arms clamped at my sides, I can think of only one option, I summon a twilight portal between myself and my vampiric assailant, cutting the vampire's arms off at the elbow as I take his hands and forearms with me into the twilight realm. Once severed, his nerveless grip is easily broken and I shrug off the already decaying appendages as if they were of no more nuisance than a common mosquito._

_I step back from twilight, arriving behind the vampire who's still staring dumbly at the stumps of his recently misplaced forearms and hands._

_For warned is to be forearmed, Count Chocula! _

_I conjure a razor sharp, 'shadow blade' and sever the distracted creature's head from its hapless shoulders before he even becomes aware of my presence having returned to this plane of existence. Its body is already decaying to dust by the time its head rolls away into the darkened night._

_There's no time to consider the creature's fate, not that I'd waste another moment contemplating it to begin with. I place the last of my four charges along the north perimeter and set these charges on a delay. If things go the way I hope, the initial blasts will herd the dark creatures toward the front of the Manor estate and right into a concentrated blast from the last four claymores. _

_What survives that- who cares, because by then I'll either be in the thick of it or will be long gone from the resulting chaos_

_I figure Voldie is going to lower the wards before apparating to the Ministry or to whoever is the lucky recipient to be of his little impromptu invasion. Being the sound tactician, albeit cowardly rear echelon leader he is, he'll send his Death Eaters first to handle and direct his dark creatures and then follow in their wake to claim victory for everyone else's work, or a quick exit if things are going pear shaped- what a guy! _

_I should have a window of opportunity of about five minutes in length between the time the anti-apparation wards go down and the dark creatures are sent after the Death Eaters._

_I'd just as soon, wait till the Death Eaters have left to make my move, but I'm feeling charitable and have decided to go for broke. I'd just as soon drop a bomb on the lot of them, but I've no time to arrange for an air strike and I find myself woefully without sufficient explosives to attempt the job manually._

_I've decided to hit the giants and trolls with the fifty caliber after the first blast and then hit the Manor itself before the wards come down. Sure, I'm shadow stepping into a death trap, but,… I'd rather not have a bunch of late night ministry personnel's deaths on my shoulders. Knowing what a sweetheart Voldie is; a convent or an orphanage is just as likely a target for tonight's revelry, but I doubt it. This has a ministry coup written all over it. . _

_._

_I return to my empty equipment satchel and the ominously waiting fifty caliber I'll leave the discarded bag, It's "Light Strike' insignia will provide silent testimony to Light Strike's presence here, regardless of the outcome. So it will either provide initial proof of our involvement, or it will give the ministry a point of reference to return my remains._

_I take a moment to devour a quick energy bar and gulp down some cool water from by mini canteen. _

_My watch reads eight minutes till the first charge detonates. Eight minutes is not a lot of time to consider your life, fate, the existence of God,… at least it's not a lot of time when you have all the time in the world to ponder such things. When you're out in the field facing death, eight minutes can seem like a lifetime of waiting._

_For me,... it's just right. I wonder if I'll see Sirius and Remus again? If I'll finally be with my parents? I wonder if I'm not being overly optimistic in my expectations that I'll be going up instead of down?_

_Mostly I wonder if God is really as merciful as most think he is, because if he is; then I'll get to see Hermione again, even if just for a moment._

_I glance at my watch one minute left. Where does the time go when you're not having fun?_

_I take up the fifty caliber and activate its night scope at full magnification. I intend to take out all of the Giants with a minimum of two head shots per, and as many of the trolls and werewolves I can sight before I'm out of ammo, or out of time, before the first sequence of eight charges have gone off._

_I'm not going to concern myself with the vampires and night wisps as the scent blood in the air will distract both species, if not out and out, stir them into a feeding frenzy on the downed Giants and trolls._

_My planning is simple, but tried and true on past missions. Sometimes the simplest plans are the most effective. I hope this is one such occasion._

**THOOM**

_**It**__**'**__**s **__**show **__**time!**_

_I grab up the fifty cal oblivious to the shriek of rage and howls of pain that assault the night air below._

**THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK…..**

_The snipers silencer is the best galleons can by , but with a kick like a fifty cal- there's only so much sound even the best material can negate._

_I've already emptied my first clip and am fairly pleased to see that the last of the giants has fallen, toppling down on top of two hapless forest trolls, crushing them beneath many tons of life fleeing muscle and sinew. _

_**Snickt**_

_The second clips slaps home and I chamber the first of the semi-auto's rounds._

_**It's troll time!**_

_I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am. Hell, I shouldn't be enjoying it at all, but I am. It's not often that I get to cut loose like this without having to be responsible for the lives of an entire team under my command._

_Right now, it's just me and some long overdue payback that I'm calling in with interest._

**THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK…..**

"_And__another__one__down__… __and__another__one__down,__… __another__one__bites__the__dust!__" _I find myself humming.

_Hey, what can I say , I'm a fan of the classics and besides, "Queen" was an English band._

_**Thunk- click**_

_That's it for the fifty, I've officially exhausted my long range dispatch capability-pity that._

_Well, it's time to get 'up close and personal'._

_It looks like my half arsed plan is working, though. The vampires and night wisp are in a blood frenzy over all the gore spattered across the fields below. Not only are they feasting on the fallen giants and trolls, but some of them seem to have taken a liking to dog food- poor werewolves._

_Hey Ho, let's go! (I like the Ramones too.) _

_I summon a portal and strep into the twilight lands, which I'm guessing is about akin to walking through the void of space._

_No sound, no warmth, no sense of beginning or end, but light? Oh, yes, there's light. The light of thousands of worlds calls out to every fiber of my being, beckoning me to come and visit. Below me I see our world in all its hapless glory, filled with millions upon millions of tiny pinpoints of light. _

_Each is the light of a single soul. Some shine more brightly than others. As I watch some wink out of existence, while other flare anew from nothingness._

_Some lights glow as brightly as the stars overhead. Others barely flicker. I see the latter as it spreads out amongst its brethren, extinguishing some lights whilst infecting others and diminishing their glow._

_These are the predators of our world, the cosmic representations of evil. I watch helplessly as it spreads out to both destroy and infect its fellow man._

_I once thought that I could extinguish these lights and purge our world from all evil, but I'm not God, not even an angel. I am but a Shadow Mage- a guardian of the light, not the light itself. _

_The darkness that infects our world must be purged by the populace of the light. For not even a hundred Shadow mages could effectively alter the balance in the light's favor._

_Change must come from within a society if it is to have any long lasting effects toward the betterment of the human condition. I can only guide and assist where I can to see that the light gets its chance. _

_For me, that's Light Strike. I'm in a unique position to not only directly affect small portions of society, one case and perhaps only one individual at a time, but each life saved has in turn the potential to return that kindness to others and so on. I can also train other operatives and team leaders for Light Strike, and they too will help extinguish some of the those diminished lights before they can infect or extinguish others, or turn some of those dark souls back to the light._

_Voldiemort is not one of the latter. He is beyond redemption. The blood of the innocents; Sirius, Remus, my parents, … Hermione… and scores of others cry out in the darkness, waiting for justice._

_As I said, this is an old debt and I'm calling it in._

_In truth, I don't expect to live. I've long known this day would eventually come. Now that it's finally here, I welcome it with open arms_

_I know that either way, I will at least be at peace. The peace of the dead or the peace of the living._

_I pray God, that if it's the former, and I die in the attempt, that in his benevolence, he let me take the monster with me._

_If I have done anything in my life that has pleased you, than I pray 'holy father' that you will allow me to break even and take Voldie down with me._

_If you are feeling truly generous, then I beg to see Hermione one last time before oblivion claims me or Hell drags me down. _

_Take pity on me 'o lord._

_Voldie...here I come._


	5. Chapter 5: A merciful God

**Chapter Four: **

**A Merciful God**

* * *

><p><em>A merciful God.<em> That's what I'm thinking as I look down upon the useless piece of vegetation that's kept from rotting by my _preservative charm._

I hastily print a simple note. It's not really a note per say, as it is a billing statement.

**To the British Magical Ministry:**

**Receive in service the head of said Dark Lord- _Voldishorts_, in fulfillment of the requirements of our contract.**

**Enclosed you will note wand of said Dark Lord, (I've shoved it half way into the dead fiend's brain via his ear), as further evidence of authenticity.**

**The sum of one million galleons is due within one week, payable to 'Light Strike' as per our contractual agreement on delivery and verification of the authenticity of said elimination of terrorist.**

**Please note that several, if not all members of the terrorist organization known as the Death Eaters,( under Voldie-whatsits command), also perished in the fire fight with said ,expired Dark Lord.**

**You will note their remains and subsequent remains of numerous dark creatures at the Riddle Estate in Little Hangelton.**

**You may consider the elimination of above dark individuals as pro-bono; no additional remittance is required other than the agreed upon amount of 1,000,000 galleons for Voldie-Dork.**

**Please direct payment and or additional questions to Light Strike Command.**

**Sincerely,**

**Lt. Commander Jamie Harrison,Light Strike Alpha One- Team Leader**

I probably shouldn't have signed my name, but what can I say. I'm giddy in the knowledge that I'm still alive and his Dark Arseness is dead.

I also shouldn't do what I'm about to do, but I really can't help myself at this point.

I conjure a common muggle stapler and…

THAP-THAP-THAP

The bill of sale has been secured to Voldie's forehead- He's never looked better.

Though I must say, it's a close second to the way he looked just before I killed him.

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback <strong>

_So here I am with all but one arm of my body standing contentedly in the realm of twilight. What's my absent arm doing? Why it's dropping a flash grenade in the Great Room of Riddle Manor._

_Why is it doing such a thing? _

_To temporarily shock and blind the Death Beaters gathered in said room._

_Why do that? _

_So I can waltz in from twilight and kill their unsuspecting selves before they have ample opportunity to return the favor._

_So anyway,… I drop my grenade and pull my hand back into Twilight and close the portal, silently as a summer breeze; I'm in and back safely._

_I count to ten, don my field issue optics to shield my eyes, and step back into- absolute mayhem!_

_I must've dropped my grenade right between the legs of some unsuspecting Death Muncher._

_Now, flash grenades don't pack much in the way of explosives. They just make a deafening BANG that sets the ears to ringing, and blinds the eyes via a magnesium flare. Magnesium burns hot! Scratch that. Magnesium burns like hellfire!_

_Like I said, I must have dropped the grenade right between some poor sod's legs because he's clawing at his smoldering crotch and howling like a banshee._

_Perhaps I've saved future generation from a fate worse than having never been born. The prat runs headlong into a wall and knocks himself cold, breaking off his mask in the collision._

_Well, I'll be damned! Like father, like son..._

_Hello, Draco. How are they- __**not hangin-**__ I'd venture a guess at this point._

_I wonder if he and Ginny ever went the distance. If so, I think any relationship they have is about to become wholly platonic. Ah well…_

_Enough about Draco's bits, or lack thereof, I've got loads to do and precious little time to do it before the flash grenade's effects wear off._

_By rough estimates, I've caught about a score of idiots with their britches down. They themselves need to be put down, fast, efficiently, and without the hope of regaining their ability to mount a counter attack._

_If I've managed to learn one positive thing in my previous life; it's that stunning spells are relatively useless, if not downright stupid._

_Using a stunning spell in battle is beginning a recipe for disaster. How many friends have I personally seen fall victim to a renewed attack by a previously stunned assailant?_

_I'm not here to take prisoners. This is war and these idiots are about to become casualties,... well maybe not Draco? It does amuse me to let him live at this point._

_The others however….hmmm?_

_Killing curses? Too much time and too magically draining._

_I know just the thing! I drop to one knee spinning in an arc as I go. _

"_SECTUM SCYTHERA"!_

_Air coalesces and compacts into a razor sharp blade that severs in half every blind stumbling Death Geeker in a ten foot radius._

_Merlin above, what a mess! The floor, me, Draco, everything is spattered with blood, entrails and a variety of nameless gore that is beyond horrific._

_Those that haven't died outright or been shocked to utter silence, raise their voices , and subsequently the alarm; through mind numbing screams of terror and pain filled shrieks of misery._

_I've never used this particular spell for anything but clearing a path in the jungle. I'm not sure I'll be able to bring myself to use it for even that, again._

_By the pounding footsteps on the stairwell above, and the shouts of alarm from the hall outside, I can ascertain that the element of surprise has passed._

_Shit! _

_I was going to renew my attack on the second floor next anyway so…_

_I conjure a shadow portal and step into twilight; a half a thought later, I emerge on the second floor _

_I'm just In time to see several black robed zealots racing down the stairwell and several others coming up short in stunned disbelief at my appearance from seemingly out of nowhere._

_Two more flash grenades coming up!_

_I heave one down the stairwell and the other across the hallway stepping out just as I feel a dull impact hit the right rib area of my basilisk armor._

_Cutting hex?_

_It must have been a fairly powerful witch or wizard, considering I even felt such a relatively common hex through my armor I'll have to make a point of eliminating said individual sooner rather than later._

_8-9-10, Ready or Not, Here I Come!_

_I step back out into the hallway above the stairwell. The scene below is **almost** comical, alright, I'll admit it… it is quite funny._

_A half dozen Death Beaters are sprawled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, flailing, cursing, whining and moaning to wake the dead._

_Half of them look like they've broken various bones in the fall. The other half look like they're willing to break bones to get out of their current predicament. One or two in the mix are actually on fire from the magnesium._

_I chance a quick glance down the hallway to my right- nothing? That's curious, but I'll have to take a moment before I investigate._

_I send a few well placed incendio's into the knot of flailing idiot's at the bottom of the stair and follow with a patented- airis maxis, (an oxygen saturation spell used by healers to enrich the rooms of oxygen deprived patients)._

_The two work beautifully together._

_I can't resist. I have to gloat or I'll have a migraine later._

" _Voldie" _I yell down the hall,( _realizing in retrospect that it was one of Voldie's patented crucio's that hit me, not a cutting hex as I'd supposed_), _" There's a lovely fire downstairs. You bring the marshmallows and I'll bring a skewer!"_

_I wait patiently, but only the screams of the recently inflamed echo ominously throughout the house._

_No takers? What a surprise. _

_A door is standing partially ajar at the end of the hallway, beckoning as if someone had retreated that way in a blind rush_

_The blind part I believe. The rest of it smells like a trap._

_Since I'm not feeling particularly curious, I conjure a water sphere and add a hint of sentience with its focus that all things black clad are bad,(dirty), that should give it some direction. I further enlarge the sphere till its several thousand gallons of focused liquid fury begging for release._

_I gladly oblige._

_A flick of my hand sends the sphere tumbling toward the beckoning doorway._

_My intent is to give the room beyond a cleansing enema. _

_The sound of shattering glass and a descending scream tells me that I've managed to flush at least one turd out the room's window._

_It sounds like high tide, wave crashes followed closely by screams choking off to sputter and curse._

_I should've gone into the laundry business at least __**making a killing**__ there would put some coin in my pocket._

_The coughing and gasping from the room in question tells me that the water sphere has run its course. Now , normally I might chance a glance inside to survey the effectiveness of my work, but this is Voldie's digs and frankly, I'm just not that stupidly curious._

_I've a better idea._

_I figure every living thing inside that room is probably standing in a puddle,ie... sodden through and through. _

_Why not a little science experiment?_

_Say kids, what happens when an electric current hits water? _

_Anyone? Anyone at all….? _

_Aw, come on folks, don't tell me you aren't smarter than a fifth grader?_

_Ok, let me give you an example. Now, like I proved at the Taylor's, I do have a fundamental knowledge of elemental magic, that said, I conjure a mini thunderstorm and send it into Death Eater central._

_A few horrific screams followed by a crack of thunder tells me that it's probably safe to explore the room's contents now. _

_I dispel the localized thunder system and chance a peek around the corner of the door jam._

_Yikes! Three smoldering wrecks are still twitching spasmodically on the sodden floor._

_Gees, it smells like burnt dog! _

_I fight down my gag reflex long enough to kick over a few bodies. No Voldie, but hey, I didn't think I'd get that lucky anyway._

_There's no other exit discernable from the room, except the broken out window. I don't bother to check outside as I can sense that the anti-apparation wards are still in place and I really don't think Voldie was the turd I flushed earlier- the scream sounded too young for old snake face._

_I briefly consider homing in on his dark-ass, but I've lost the element of surprise and I'd rather not step out of twilight into the business end of his snakiness' wand._

_Hide and seek it is!_

_Oh where-Oh where- Oh where is Voldie? Oh where-Oh where- Oh where is Voldie? Oh where-Oh where- Oh where is Voldie?_

_**Where can Voldie be?**_

_Two spare bedrooms and a nasty surprise later, (in the form of Voldie's pet-Nagini), and I've got __a souvenir from the experience. A touchy severing spell and a quick preservation spell later and..._

_Viola! I do believe I've got enough snakeskin hide for a pair of custom made boots!_

_That takes care of the second floor._

_I chance a quick glance at my watch, eight minutes have passed. I ignore the irony that it's the same amount of time I had earlier to 'ponder my existence' before the fun began._

_I figure I've got maybe another three to five minutes before what few Death Eaters are still functional or the dark creatures outside get curious, and start to search for yours truly with an acute sense of vengeance._

_The only places I haven't checked is the cellar or the attic. My money is on the attic._

_I shadow step onto the roof and… Yes!, I'm in luck. The golden glow from the roof's dormers tell me that the old Riddle Manor has a pest control problem- the attic's infested with vermin._

_Angry howls and blood thirsty cries rise in a crescendo from the lawn below, apparently werewolves and vampires have night vision of their own._

_I begin to wonder if vampires can fly when I feel a shift in the energy flow surrounding the house._

_The wards are coming down. Voldie's playing the coward card and obviously intends to live to _'_Flee another day'._

_It's probably a stupid idea, but I'd just as soon get this over with now. I shadow step into the twilight lands and hone in on a revolting mass of darkness I sense below._

_Ready or not, here I come!_

_I conjure a shadow blade and step out into the attic as close to the dark mass as I can without materializing within the wall itself - that would not be good._

"What the…? **SHIT!**"

_Who knew Voldie was so loquacious? The __**look**__ on his face is priceless._

_**Swak! Thud!,…..Whump!**_

_In order; describe to me the sound of a sword cutting off Voldie's head- the sound of that head hitting the floor, followed by the heedless body following in its wake?_

_Imagine my surprise- __**how easy was that?**_

_By the sound of unrest spreading though the house below and the scrabbling across the roof- it's time to go._

_I place a quick preservative spell on the head, grab up his Dead Darkness' wand and I'm history._

* * *

><p><strong>END OF FLASHBACK <strong>

The morning sun is just filtering in from the windowed wall of the office, _that's my cue to leave_.

I step into the dwindling shadows of the room's far corner, summon a twilight portal and _shadow step _into my living room back in Long Beach, California.

It's ten p.m. here. I readjust my watch for west coast time and head for the shower. I vaguely consider calling Jeff to let him know I'm safe and sound so that Gail and the kids won't worry, but the kids should already be in bed anyway. I'll grab a quick bite after I clean up and grab some sleep before heading over first thing in the morning to brief Jeff.

I could wait and see him at Headquarters for the de-briefing, but technically, I'm still on leave and I intend to enjoy a few days before I have to return to the real world. Had I known what the real world had waiting for me I would have rethought the wisdom of my planning.

* * *

><p>THUMP-THUMP-THUMP<p>

"Who in the world could be visiting at this hour?" Jeff Taylor mutters irately as he hurriedly tucks in his uniform's shirt aand steps to the door.

"I've got it, Gail." Jeff calls out as he unlocks the front door.

"er,Yes…Jamie?"

"Hiya, Jeff. Did I miss breakfast?" Jamie quirks a crooked smile as his friend and commander stands gapping stupidly from the half opened door.

"I-I thought you'd left already?" Jeff ponders vaguely, still stunned by my presence on his front stoop.

"I did. It's done. I'm back."

"You, did?... You're done!" Jeff echoes shocked.

"I'm back." I finish with a smirk. "Is that Gail's coffee I smell?"

Jeff manages to get past his stunned disbelief just long enough to step away from the doorway so that I can enter his house. I brush past him and make my way into the kitchen. I find Gail working over a hot stove with her back to me.

"Who was at the door, Jeff?" She asks vaguely assuming I'm her husband as she keeps her eyes focused on her frying eggs.

"Some tramp smelled your delicious cooking and came looking for a handout." I reply with a smirk.

"Wha…?" Gail stammers in surprise as she turns away from her stove .

"**JAMIE!"**

**G**ail barely manages to shriek my name before I'm engulfed in a fierce hug, while the forgotten eggs begin to burn on the griddle- _shame that._

Hearing Gail's shriek of my name rouses the rest of the house to my presence and I'm soon completely surrounded with no hope of escape- _I surrender_.


	6. Chapter 6: First Date

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

**Chapter Six: First Date**

Two weeks later-

_Has it really been two weeks? It feels a lot longer than that if you ask me. The first week was okay, the second one - not so much._

_I had a lovely breakfast with the Taylors that first day, after the fervor died down and the kids gave me a little breathing room._

_I'd managed to keep the story to myself, they seemed to realize that __I just didn't want to talk about it._

_It wasn't so much that it bothered me, at least not as much as I thought it would._

_Relieved? Yeah, I was that, but it wasn't like a great burden had been lifted off my shoulders, not that kind of relief. Maybe closure was a better word, I don't know. _

_Was I happy? No- not really, at least no more than I was before. I could be happy. Hell, happiness was just a phone call away; in the form of one Julia Taylor._

_I care about Julia. I enjoy spending time with her- though we've never actually dated or anything._

_It could be more, well….more. I know that it could, she's as much intimated that she is definitely interested. The age thing isn't such a big deal as its only ten years and she is very mature for her age to begin with._

_What's holding me back?_

_What isn't holding me back?_

_What do I feel?_

_I guess if I'm honest with myself, I feel empty._

_I'm glad Voldie's gone. Hell, I'm even a little ecstatic over that part of it._

_The 'Draco thing' doesn't negate from my sense of elation either._

_Going back had more of an effect on me than I thought it would though._

_I was there just long enough to remember, and what I remember hurts as much today as it did then._

_I remember friends who became, well,.. __**not**__ friends, except for the twins, Neville and Luna. I'd love to visit that lot, reconnect, but,… well… why risk exposing them to the whole "Harry Potter Myth" all over again?_

_They deserve better. They deserve peace, and my absence gives them that._

_Besides, if I saw them, I'd want to see her and I can't see her, at least not anymore. I could visit her grave, but what would be the point?_

_She's not there? _

_It's not like I don't honor her memory, because I do. I light a candle for her at St. Andrew's every Saturday, except when I'm in the field on assignment, and then I always make sure I do it first thing when I get home._

_I make a card out for her on her birthday and send it away on the tide. I hope wherever 'Mione is she gets it?_

_Five minutes. Why couldn't Fate, Merlin or God himself, just have given me five lousy minutes to tell her?_

_Tell her,… tell her what? That I love her? It hardly seems enough. Not nearly enough for her, but it's what I feel, or felt... _

_It isn't much, but it would have been something._

_Part of me wants to curl into a ball and cry till I die, but I can't. I haven't been able to cry since that first day I left England after finding out she'd died._

_She'd want me to go on. I know that. _

_She'd want me to be happy. I know that too._

_I wish I could cry, maybe it would help._

_I spent the second day of my first week off in one long endless debriefing._

_The rest of the week I spent fishing and surfing and generally mulling over the melancholy thoughts I'd shared already above._

_Grief is such a waste, especially when healing never follows in its wake. _

_What a waste. I could be spending this time with Julia, learning to live again. Julia would love to help me learn to live again, I know she would. Just like I know that she would be an excellent guide, but I don't call her- idiot!_

_She hasn't called me either. She seems to instinctively sense that I need this time alone._

_Which I obviously do, but really,.. How stupid am I to not take advantage of the gift her mere presence would bring to my life?_

_I promised myself that I'd make up for it the second week of my time off._

_Damn it, I'm going to start living. Really living!_

_I'm going to take my chance at happiness and run with it._

_At least that was what I promised myself before the second week arrived and the shit storm that blew in with it._

* * *

><p>A lone figure sits fishing off the peer of a private beach. He hasn't caught anything worth trying to eat yet, but- hey, the day is still young and he's got plenty of bait.<p>

Yes, sir, things are looking up. He's got a date tonight and what a date?

As long as he lives he'll never get over the brilliant smile Julia favored him with when he showed up at the Taylors yesterday and asked for a private moment with Jeff and Gail.

She seemed to know what he was up to. How she knew was a mystery, one that would provide for interesting conversation during their date.

* * *

><p>Jamie got up from his cooling cup of coffee and uneaten slice of pie and began to pace nervously back and forth across the Taylor dining room.<p>

Gail gave Jeff a knowing wink, unbeknownst to their nervously fidgeting guest.

"Look, I wouldn't have blamed you if you kicked my arse out in the street and threw up a _fidelius charm_ to ensure I never came back, but…"

"Why ever would we do that, Jamie?" Gail asked innocently, though her eyes danced merrily in her head.

" Huh?" Jamie paused in mid step and stared dumbly.

Gail graced him with a warm, reassuring smile as she clarified. "Why would we, what was it? Oh, yes, 'kick your arse out and throw up a _fidelius charm_ to ensure you never came back'?"

Jamie began pacing back and forth and this time he worried at his hair as he did so, shifting an uncertain glance toward Julia's parents every now and then.

"It's just that? Well, you see….? It's like this….." He faltered uncertainly.

"Yes, Jamie."

Jamie shifted his attention back to Gail. "Yes what?" He asked blinking furiously.

"Yes, you can date, Julia." Gail clarified simply.

"That is if you can manage to ask her out?" Jeff snorted next to her.

Jamie's face colored, but he managed to stammer out uncertainly. " I can? …Really?"

Gail nodded, smiling reassuringly.

"Why?" he asked in a small voice, losing confidence in himself.

Gail's smile fell and her eyes hardened as she scolded. "Jamie, sometimes I swear? You can be the most infuriatingly naïve person I've ever met. **Why?** Are you kidding me? Let me think…. You're practically a member of this family for starters."

She began to tick off her reasoning on each finger as she lectured him.

"You're kind and gentle. Thoughtful and considerate. Honest and hard working. And let's not even mention extremely handsome and out of all the people Julia could possibly date in the whole world, who could she possibly be safer with?"

"Why he asks?" Gail groused shaking her head disappointedly.

Jamie stood there gapping, his jaw hanging open stupidly.

Jeff wiped at his eyes as he chuckled. "That's one for the record books. If they go the distance, then I know what story I'm going to use for their first toast at the wedding- Har!"

Jamie's mouth snapped shut and his eyes narrowed irately at his friend momentarily. He was about to throw out an angry retort, when it hit him- _they said yes!_

Jeff continued to laugh obliviously while Gail muttered under her breath, reconsidering letting her eldest daughter date the 'village idiot'.

"T-Thanks" he stammered out and bolted from the room, before he gave them more of a chance to change their mind, and right out the front door.

A few minutes later he rang the doorbell.

Julia answered the door with the most amused expression on her face, causing his face to flame an even deeper shade of red then it had already been.

" Erm,…" He cleared his throat uncertainly.

Julia raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"That is,.. ah, could we,… er,… Willyougooutwithme?"

Julia's eyes widened in surprise.

She didn't know which she found more amazing. The fact that he'd actually asked her out- _well, sort of_. How nervous, the ever confident Jamie Harrison was? Or the fact that he'd actually managed to get all of that out in a single breath?

She considered fleetingly, pretending that she hadn't understood his request and make him go through it again, but decided to take pity on him instead. Besides, she'd waited for this from the moment she'd first laid eyes on him.

"Yes, Jamie. I should like to go out with you very much." She answered primly.

The smile that lit his face could outshine a Christmas tree.

Julia could feel its glow enter her own heart, lighting every corner, not that her heart was beating fit to bust out of her very chest at the moment.

"Three o'clock then?" His confidence returning.

"So early? I, er,.. mean, three o'clock would be perfect."

Jamie nodded and turned to leave.

Julia watched him fondly, rather enjoying the view as he walked away. Reluctantly, she closed the door, erasing the picture.

The door had barely closed when her well contained façade faltered and Julia Taylor let out an ear piercing squeal of absolute joy.

She was about to run and gather her mother for one of their special 'woman to woman' sessions, when the doorbell rang again.

_Jamie must've forgotten something,_ she considered as she pulled open the door.

He did.

" Um… I just wanted to say… Thanks."

Julia smiled and pulled him into a longer than usual hug, daring to kiss his cheek as they parted.

"W-What should I wear? I mean, are we going formal or..?" Julia began anxiously before Jamie cut her off.

"Something light and casual will be fine." He interrupted, enjoying the turn around as Julia was now a bundle of nerves.

"Tomorrow"

"Tomorrow. Goodnight, Julia."

" Goodnight, Jamie"

This time Julia closed the door before she could turn into a puddle of mush. _He asked me._

_He even asked my parent's permission? Nobody does that anymore. Nobody , but Jamie…._

Julia floated off to find her mother.

Jamie drove home at least ten miles under the speed limit. He felt alive,… Alive as he hadn't felt in years.

* * *

><p><strong>Three o'clock<strong>

**DING-DONG**

"Mom would you get the door please, Julia called down from the top of the stair.

Gail shook her head, smiling smugly.

"Mother please?" her daughter whined as she checked her hair in the hallway mirror for the tenth time in the past five minutes.

"Are you expecting someone" Gail asked her daughter loftily.

**DING-DONG**

"Jeff, I think there's something wrong with the bell? It keeps ringing on its own." Gail chuckled to her husband.

"Daddy , please?" Julia mewled pathetically to her father.

"Alright, Alright" Jeff Taylor raised his hands in a placating fashion as he went to answer the door, not wanting to deprive his excited daughter her entrance.

Jeff pulled open the door to find Jamie waiting with two bundles of flowers in his arms.

"For me? You shouldn't have. You **really** shouldn't have." Jeff chided his friend.

Jamie's face soured as he growled out, " Jerk"

"That's **Mr. Jerk **and the **father** of your date-to you!" Jeff reminded his young friend sternly, pleased to see his confidence falter.

Before Jamie had a chance to regroup, he pressed his advantage.

"Let's get to the ground rules, shall we. I expect my daughter to be treated like a crystal vase, to put it delicately sir, **DELICATELY. **Do we understand each other?"

Jamie nodded, swallowing nervously.

"Excellent" Jeff smirked. "Now, about the flowers…?"

"Oh, Jeff- really?" His wife interrupted, shoving him out of the way with an impatient growl.

"Jamie, please come in." Gail invited.

Jamie took a hesitant step forward and nervously offered Gail the larger of the two bouquets he'd brought with him.

"Thank you, Jamie. They're beautiful." Gail smiled appreciatively, putting him at ease.

She reached for the second bouquet, "Shall I?" he pulled back initially before reluctantly given up the second bouquet.

Gail smirked as she gathered up her daughter's bouquet, promising that she'd take care of them accordingly, but her response went unheard and unnoticed as her daughter's date was completely distracted by the vision descending the staircase.

Julia's blonde hair floated around her shoulders like a halo, bouncing slightly with each step as she came down the stair.

She was captivating.

She wore lovely pale yellow sundress that both flattered her lithe form and still hinted at a careless casualness.

If he didn't know better, he would've thought her part vela, as her beauty could easily rival Fleur Delacour at that age.

_Strange how that notion had popped into his head?_

White sandals adorned her feet with a matching small white handbag hanging by a strap from her left shoulder, that she clutched in a death grip to hide the shaking of her hands as her other hand grasped the banister to steady her descent. She had hoped for this day for so long and now that it was here she was so nervous that she could barely keep on her feet. Not that she'd ever let him get a hint that she was anything but poised and confident, mind you.

Her date wore black polo that complimented his lean, athletic frame and a pair of light tan slacks over matching cloth loafers.

His former brown eyes, now they're real green color for the occasion.

It was a tossup as to who was the more captivated of the two.

Gail slipped her hand into her husband's and let her head fall on his shoulder, each enjoying the romantic scene that played out before them.

It was better than Julia's prom night, much better. Each felt they were getting a glimpse of the future, their future; Jamie and Julia's.

Despite her every effort, Julia almost lost her composure when Jamie stepped forward and complimented that she looked 'amazing'. Only a faint tinge of pink coloring her cheek gave her away as she politely thanked him and returned the compliment with one of her own.

Strangely, he seemed startled by her sincerity.

_Why would he not think himself desirable? _She thought distractedly before it hit here.

_My God, He has no idea how attractive he is and not just physically, but as a person_?

Julia's eyes shifted to her mother's and she could see the same notion had occurred to her as well. It was shattering, realizing that someone as confident as Jamie Harrison had no real self esteem, no positive image of himself.

Her mother mouthed '_later'_ to her before throwing her an encouraging wink.

Gail stepped forward and displayed the flowers Jamie had brought saying. "Jamie , brought these for you , dear. I'll just put them and water and leave them in your room for you."

Julia thanked her mother and then thanked Jamie, brushing his arm slightly in affection. He stiffened slightly before relaxing.

It passed so quickly that she almost missed it, but the look on her mother's faced told her that not only had she not been mistaken, but that her mother had caught his response as well.

"Where are you two off to tonight? Jeff asked good-naturedly, but it was more of a prying parent question than idle curiosity.

"Oh, here and there." Jamie responded airily. "Not to worry, I'll have Julia home early- sometime tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Jeff blurted out in alarm.

The two women were giggling at both the comment and Jeff's reaction.

"You better be kidding me, Jamie?" Jeff growled in a warning tone.

Jamie just shrugged noncommittally, but Julia reassured her father that he was only joking and besides she's an adult and quite capable of seeing to herself, not that she was worried as Jamie was a complete gentleman.

Seeing the warning glare that his wife was throwing his way, Jeff immediately backed down, rather than face the wrath of the two Taylor women.

"er, have a nice time, I'll just check on Max and Jenny." Jeff excused himself from the room.

Gail threw an amused glance at her husband's rapidly retreating back, before saying her own goodbyes and hugging her daughter happily.

The couple left the house and Julia was just about to ask what he'd planned for their evening when Jamie surprised her by asking first…

"Do you trust me?"

"Wha.. Yes. Yes, I do." Julia returned with complete conviction.

"Well then…" Jamie wandlessly conjured a beautiful white silk scarf.

She would have thought he was showing off, but the casual way he went about performing such ridiculously advanced magic told her that he was just doing something that came naturally to him. He wasn't even thinking about it.

"If you will allow me?" Jamie asked politely, tying the scarf around her eyes as a makeshift blindfold.

He held her shoulders from behind and whispered in her ear, "Make a wish." The feel of his warm breath on her neck raised goose bumps down her arms.

She hadn't made a wish, what she would have wished for up until a few days ago, was already coming true .

"We're here." Jamie whispered again.

_Here? They were still on their front stoop, weren't they? He couldn't have apparated, she hadn't felt a thing. No squeezing sensation? They couldn't have used a port key either, there was no pulling sensation or knee jarring landing? They'd only taken a handful of steps since Jamie had placed the blindfold over her eyes._

Jamie gently removed the blindfold. Julia blinked once, twice, orienting herself…..

" OH MY GOD…. How did you…?" She gasped in complete shock before he shushed.

" Shhh, wait for it." He directed sweeping his hand out across the landscape.

The sunset cast the city below in a wash of colors that was utterly breath taking. Rich golden hues turned to burnt orange, pink and finally purple before the sun fell beneath the horizon and lights began to wink into existence throughout the city below.

Within moments the couple was surrounded by dazzling golden lights as the Eiffel Tower lit up the night sky like a giant sentinel, guarding the city beneath them.

Jamie had brought them to Paris, (the observation deck on the Eiffel Tower, to be exact), timing his arrival perfectly with the setting sun.

Julia alternated before staring dumbstruck at the beauty stretching out beneath her, and at the man standing beside her with a hopeful look on his face.

"Like it?" he asked sheepishly.

"Like it? Jamie!" She squealed, pulling him into a fierce hug and kissing his cheek appreciatively.

"That was unbelievable!" She gushed, releasing him.

Jamie grinned. "I was shooting for something different, er, romantic, but, I may have over reached a bit." He confessed, sheepishly taking her hand and escorting her around the deck, pointing out different landmarks around them.

The young couple spent the early evening chatting while they walked idly through the streets of Paris. They stopped for a light snack at a street side bistro, before continuing on.

The night grew a bit cooler, and Julia shivered slightly beside him. She assured him she was fine, but he insistently pulled her into a nearby shop and picked out a beautiful antique-style white sweater, that complimented her dress beautifully.

Several shops began to close for the evening as it was going on one a.m., Paris time.

Jamie took her hands and instructed her to close her eyes, which she did with only the slightest hesitation. Not over any uncertainty on his part, she just wasn't ready for this date to end any time soon.

Jamie guided her forward a step or two, and strangely a few to the right, before he asked her to open her eyes again.

She found herself standing in the garden atrium of a tropical themed restaurant, overlooking the ocean. The sun was just beginning its fall toward the horizon, but the air was still warm and she reluctantly removed her sweater and draped it over her arm, smoothing her hand appreciatively over the soft material. It was something she knew would become one of her dearest treasures in the years to come.

Jamie arranged for an intimate table with a stunning view of the beach as they dined on fresh seafood and enjoyed the chamber orchestra playing for the diners' pleasure.

After their meal, they walked barefoot along the shoreline as the still warm water played across their feet and the sun dipped below the horizon for the second time.

Jamie draped her sweater tenderly over her shoulders to ward off the evening chill. She found the act totally endearing as most wizards would just take it upon themselves to cast a _warming charm_ without a second thought, let alone asking a witch's' preference, but not Jamie. With Jamie, the little things mattered.

"Are you tired?" he asked thoughtfully.

_Is he kidding? I could go on like this forever!_

"Not really." She replied too quickly- she admonished herself. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the impression that she was some excitable little school girl on a dream date.

_Dream Date? You've got that right. _

"Good" he returned, taking her hands.

Julia closed her eyes in anticipation. She could feel him smirking at her.

"Stop that" She scolded, as he guided her a step forward and one to her left.

A delighted smile lit her face as the familiar sounds around her heralded their arrival at a carnival.

They played games. He won her a beautiful brown teddy bear that she promptly named "Harry Bear" because of its familiar green eyes.

They rode the roller coaster and the carousel, shared a cotton candy, laughed and enjoyed themselves, completely at ease around one another.

All too soon, Julia found herself _traitorously_ yawning.

' Sorry' She mouthed, to which he smiled warmly and softly added "Me too."

Moments later, Julia opened her eyes to find them shuffling up the approach to the Taylor home.

"Did I do okay? I, er, mean would you like to try this again?" he asked hesitantly from next to her.

"You did better than 'okay' and yes, I would." she carefully schooled her response, while inside she was bursting to crow from the roof tops.

_What a date! What a man! _

"Whew, that's a relief. I was afraid I'd blown it, what with it being my first date and all." He returned relieved.

_First date?... FIRST DATE!_ Julia's head reeled at his implication. _This was his first date- EVER?_

_He must mean…_

"Our first date, you mean." She corrected him.

"Ours, yes." He blushed slightly as he embarrassedly clarified. "My first one though. Well, actual date-date, that is. I've been out with a girl before, in school we had passes to go to the Village nearby, but,.. I've never been on an actual date before…mmmph"

Julia's lips muffled the rest of his confession.

Too soon for his liking she pulled gently back and whispered, "You know my number, Jamie- call it. Goodnight."

Julia slipped inside the front door of her home and fell back gently against the back of the door, sighing contently.

The weariness she'd felt before they arrived was long gone and she knew that she wouldn't be going to sleep anytime soon tonight.

She wanted to sing. She wanted to dance. She wanted her mother!

Jamie Harrison,a.k.a. Harry Potter stood staring dumbly at the Taylor's doorway. His eyelids blinking furiously as his mind tried to catch up with the butterflies dancing in his stomach

_She kissed me…_Was the only thought he managed to comprehend.

Julia trotted upstairs and tiptoed into her parent's room, gently nudging her mother awake. Once Gail Taylor had oriented herself, she followed her beckoning daughter from the room, leaving her slumbering husband- oblivious.

Gail had barely managed to get out a questioning "Well?" before her daughter squealed like a school girl and pulled her mother down to her bedside, where she relived her first date with Jamie in its entirety.

Julia finished by telling her mother Jamie's last revelation.

"Mom?" Julia asked worriedly after several moments of her mother just staring absently back at her.

"Mom, are you okay?" Julia waved her hand in front of her mother's eyes, causing her to blink.

"Paris?" her mother asked dumbly.

Julia nodded.

"He took you to Paris, France?" She asked again in abject disbelief.

"um, yes."

"The Paris. The Eiffel Tower, Paris?"

"Mom?" Julia asked uncertainly, not sure if her mother was upset with her.

"Twenty-five years." Her mother returned in an absent monotone. "Twenty-five anniversaries of asking your father for the same thing every year when he asks **what-I-want**?... and Jamie takes you to Paris on your first date**? I'll kill him**!" Gail shrieked, nearly waking the house.

"Jamie?" Julia blurted in alarm.

"Not Jamie, your father." Gail clarified with a jealous growl.

"Tell me about Paris again? Hell, tell me everything again?" Her mother asked excitedly

The two women huddled together and Julia repeated the details of her date.

"He must be very serious about you ,dear. International _port keys_ don't come cheap. I know Jamie makes a good living, but, don't get your heart set on every date being like that?" Gail grounded her excited daughter in reality. She didn't want her to expect the sun and the moon every time.

"It wasn't a _port key_, mom. At least it didn't feel like one?" Julia reiterated. "I didn't think a witch or a wizard could apparate that far either, not with side along apparating as well?"

"They can't, you can't!" Gail returned shocked. "I know Jamie's a strong wizard, Very Strong, but even Merlin himself couldn't apparate across an ocean, let alone across a continent first? If it wasn't a _port key_, then how…?"

"Magic" Julia answered simply.

"Well of course-magic, but what kind?"

Julia shrugged carelessly. "If it wasn't a mystery then it.."

" Wouldn't be Jamie." Her mother agreed and they shared a chuckle.

"Mom…" Julia paused arguing with herself if she really wanted her curiosity answered.

Her curiosity won out.

"Did dad ever say anything about what happened back in England, you know,. with Jamie and Voldemort?"

Gail's smile fell. Jeff frequently gave her a bit of the details regarding missions. Not a lot. Nothing classified, just the jist of it, but this time was different. Jeff didn't say and she knew better than to ask.

"No…he never did." She returned honestly. "I think it's something a little too personal this time, for Jamie, I mean."

Julia nodded her understanding.

"Do you think he's alright with everything? I mean, **really **alright?" Julia asked worriedly.

"I… I think so." Her mother answered with reservation. "I think he's doing the best he can with it. It's a lot. It's probably the final chapter in what was a whole other life? Now, it's probably a matter of whether or not the story will have an epilogue. "

"Or a sequel" Julia added her concern.

"Or a sequel." Her mother agreed vacantly. "Though that's not necessarily a bad thing, now is it?" Her mother chided with a knowing smile.

Julia gaped at her. "Are you serious, it could be a catastrophe."

"Even if you're that sequel?" her mother confided with a wink.

Julia blushed a deep red. "D-Do you really t-think so?" She asked hopefully.

Gail brushed a stray hair affectionately from her daughter's cheek and tilted her chin in her direction as she confided.

"I haven't seen a man that nervous on a first date since your father." Gail smiled wistfully at the memory she'd invoked.

Julia pulled her mother into a grateful hug and whispered. "Do you think he'll call?"

Gail pulled back and captured her daughter's eyes with a firm look. "He'll call."


	7. Chapter 7: Remittance Refused

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

A/N: Merry Christmas!**  
><strong>

**Chapter Seven:**

** Remittance Refused**

Jamie did his usual morning workout, though his mind and heart weren't in it. He jogged his usual five miles down the beach with his cell phone in hand, listening to the phone's music store as he jogged, wanting to use the phone for its intended primary purpose more than anything else.

He followed his run with forty-five minutes on the weights and another a half hour on the heavy bag, staring at the phone on the wall every few minutes.

_Call her, you idiot! _His head argued with his heart_. It's too soon. She'll think I'm an over eager prat._

_I think you're a prat._

_Thanks_

He wasted a half hour in a cold shower, trying to get his head right- no luck.

_**Get a grip, Potter**__. _He chided himself as he dressed and realized that his eyes had drifted toward the cell phone lying on his dresser.

He found it ironic that when his conscious mind is in a dilemma, it unfailingly regressed to Harry Bloody Potter.

_It isn't going to go anywhere_. He argued with himself.

_She leaving at the end of summer to return to University and you'll be going back on assignment soon. _

_You could take promotion, a desk job, training maybe? Yeah, sure. How long before that had you going mental? A week or a month? You're a field operative, Harry. As much as you despise it, you like it that much more- because of the action. It's the only time you feel alive._

_I feel alive with, Julia._

_Julia can't babysit you 24/7._

_Why do I even bother?_

_Because you want your dream,... don't you?_

He thought so; at least that's what he told himself. _A family of his own was that so much to ask; A nice house with a wife and a couple of kids? _

Most people took that for a given, just part of the natural order of things. To him it sounded like a lot, a whole lot.

It would give him a reason to get up in the morning and something to look forward to when coming home at night. A family would be a light at the end of the tunnel that was his life.

* * *

><p>Not for the first time he found himself praying at St. Andrew's for guidance.<p>

He should be bursting with happiness, brimming with self confidence in the wake of his first successful outing on a formal date. But, he was riddled with self doubt.

It wasn't his fault, not really. The Dursley's had never inspired self confidence. You tell anyone that they're essentially 'worthless' long enough, and sooner or later they'll take it to heart and believe it.

You instill the promise that the dreams of a family will come true if he sticks the course and vanquishes evil, then betray him and lock him away while you rob him and plan his death; that's bound to have a negative impact on a person's self image as well.

Years of loneliness had taken their toll. Friends became a rarity; the possibility of something more- a fantasy.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, but it was. It was his own fault, really. He knew there was no one to blame for his lot except himself.

Happiness was out there, just waiting for him to suck up the courage to call and ask for it.

He made his way to the votives, deposited an offering and lit a candle for Hermione. What he wouldn't give to have her here, telling him to not be so stupid, to grab his chance at happiness and never look back.

He'd fought his battle and paid his dues.

Light Strike paid well, very well, though he didn't need the money. The monies he'd recovered from his parent's and Sirius' estates had been substantial- very substantial, and he'd invested well and accrued interest-lots of interest. His children's- children's- children would never have to work a day in their lives, but what would be the point of that. Idleness was its own prison. A gilded cage was still a cage.

He had a nice house with a great location. He could always add on if the need should, er, should arise.

Surprisingly he didn't blush at the implication, if anything he found himself intrigued, very intrigued by the prospect.

It was time to let Harry Potter fall into the annals of history, or infamy, as the case may be. He was Jamie Harrison now. The better part of his life was as Jamie Harrison. His future was as Jamie Harrison, not Harry Potter.

He shifted his eyes toward the statue of Jesus' mom and silently thanked his own mum,… and Hermione.

"I love you, 'Mione." He whispered. "I'll always love you, but it's time to let you go, please understand?"

Harry left the chapel, his step much lighter than when he'd arrived. He'd made his decision to let go the past and look to the future.

He chose happiness.

Jamie activated his cell phone. A smile lit his face when he noted several missed calls from the Taylor residence.

He didn't bother with his voice-mail, just hit the speed dial, grinning broadly.

"Taylor residence, Julia Speaking?" a melodious voice answered. _Perfect_

"Hey, Julia, It's Jamie. I know it's kind of soon and at the risk of seeming too anxious could we…?"

The date he was about to request was soon forgotten.

"Jamie, thank God!" Julia cut him off before he could finish his question. "Dad's been trying to reach you all morning, didn't you check your voice-mail?"

"No, I,… I've been thinking things over. Why, what's up?"

"I'm not sure, but it sounds like Light Strike is in quite a stir. He said you should call him on a secure line, A.S.A.P., and not to come to the house until he's had a chance to talk to you. What's going on, Jamie?"

"I,.. er, I don't know. I haven't communicated with command since I started my leave. I suppose I better call him, duty and all that?"

He wanted to ask her out, not deal with some emergency in some Godforsaken part of the world. As far as he was concerned, she was his first priority right now.

"Jamie,… I had a wonderful time last night." Julia added softly before he could terminate the call.

_That settled it- emergency be damned_

" I did too. Can we,…could we …?"

"I'd like that"

"Soon?"

" Even better"

"Tomorrow night- 7p.m.?"

" I'll be waiting."

" Thanks, Julia" He almost sang over the line.

"My pleasure. Bye"

"Bye"

* * *

><p>" Mom!" Julia squealed running off to find her mother to break the good news.<p>

" What is it ,dear?" Her mother answered from the top of the stairs.

" Jamie called" Julia blurted ecstatically.

" Did he call your dad?"

" He asked me out again!" She nearly sang.

Gail smiled brightly from the top of the stairs. "Do we need to shop for a new outfit?'

"Definitely!"

* * *

><p>Jamie dialed Light Strike's private interoffice line, identified himself and asked for Commander Taylor's office.<p>

"Jamie?" Jeff's voice came hurriedly over the line.

"Yeah, it's me, Jeff. What's the emergency?"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Jamie, just what the hell did you do over in jolly 'ol England?" He mimicked an English accent at that last, but his tone was anything but humorous.

"I did my damn job, what do you think I did?" Jamie shot back angrily. "I killed his 'almighty darkness' and took a few of his henchmen and dark critters out in the process for good measure."

"A few?" Jeff shot back incredulously before explaining. "Jamie, the damn Brits are in an uproar. They claim that killing Voldemort started a chain reaction that ended up killing nearly two hundred of his followers. I guess anyone he marked joined him in death. Anyway, some of them,.. hell, a lot of them are from wealthy and influential families. Damn it, Jamie,.. two of them were the British minister's own son and son in-law to boot!"

"Well excuse me if I don't cry a damn river if a bunch of terrorist zealots bought it along with their head ass-wipe. I don't suppose the British Ministry is owning up to the fact that their laws clearly state that wearing the dark-mark is considered treason and punishable by death if apprehended, nor I suppose are they admitting that there is a standing order that Ministerial officials may kill on sight ,anyone dressed in Death Eater garb. Entering into a legal contract with 'Light-Strike' to apprehend or kill leader of said subversive organization, grants 'Light Strike' representatives the same powers and privileges of said Ministerial officials, thereby empowering us with the right to kill on-sight any terrorist either dressed as or wearing the mark of one of Voldemort's Death Eaters!" Jamie lectured vehemently.

Despite the tenseness of the situation, Jeff couldn't help but chuckle on the other end of the phone..

"Whew,.. I guess you did you homework on this mission?" He exhaled appreciatively.

"Not really, it's more like I've kept up with things across the pond. I knew the day would come when I'd be pressed into service to deal with Voldedork. I also know what a bunch of jerks the British Ministry is. Let me guess, they're trying to renege on payment for services rendered, citing extenuating damages on our part?"

Jeff chuckled again. "You got that in one. Not only are they trying to refuse payment , but they've actually turned around and had the audacity to demand we make reparations to the tune of , and get this,…. eight million galleons!"

"Eight million galleons? Not a one of those arse buckets was worth a sickle. You couldn't get eight galleons for the lot of them on E-Bay." Jamie returned incredulously before asking,

"Did command tell them to stick it and pay up?"

"Not in so many words, but yeah, that's the gist of it. After a lot of posturing they relented, but get this, they're sending over an envoy to question personally one Lt. Commander Jamie Harrison, before they'll relinquish any payment for supposed services. They wish to determine if said commander, and by association and responsibility; Light Strike command, are criminally negligent in this matter?"

Jamie barked a laugh. "What a crock. I told you lot not to get mixed up with the Brits. Same old, same old. They can't fix it so they want someone else to do the dirty work, then they want to be cheap and not pay up after. No honor among thieves. They haven't changed a bit in the ten years since I left 'Dreary 'ol England'. When's this 'special envoy' arriving?"

"That's the main reason I called. They're already on their way. I wanted to give you a heads up before you walked into a nice legal ambush." Jeff returned worriedly.

"I've got a better idea. I'm more of a 'take the fight to the enemy' kind of guy." Jamie growled pointedly.

'Awe, jees, Jamie. Don't go making things worse like you did that time down in Central America. The Dominican's are still going on about those damn parrots!" Jeff groused.

Jamie snorted a laugh. "So I set a few birds free. I made up for it , didn't I?"

"If you count replacing a bunch of endangered breeding specimens with _glamoured_ homing pigeons?"

"I thought it was inspired. Those idiot breeding specialists never even caught on till after the 'ugly ducklings' hatched. The relocated parrots have bred themselves right off the endangered species list, last I heard. But do I get thanks for my efforts on behalf of their treasured national **boid**, Nooo!"

"Jamie…?" Jeff began warningly before his young friend cut him off.

"You can't order me around right now, Jeff. I'm on leave pending contractual re-enlistment. Legally speaking, I'm a private citizen at the moment." Jamie reminded him.

"Damn it, Jamie. That's a dual edged sword. You're also not legally protected by 'Light Strike' for any actions you may currently take as a 'private citizen'." Jeff returned in warning.

"That suits me. Do express my regrets to the British Envoy. I'll just pop over to England and offer my condolences to the Minister regarding his loss. I should be back in a day or so. Tell command they can contact me later in the week regarding a time to renegotiate my contract or if they want to reconsider, due to the current climate, I'll understand and resign my commission."

"Come on, Jamie, don't be like that?" Jeff began to recant, but was cut off.

"I'll see you this weekend, Jeff. Bye"

"Wait, Jamie...Jamie…? Damn it all!" Jeff Taylor slammed down his phone in exasperation. Secretly, he wished he was holding all the cards like his young friend.

With an amused grin, he wondered just what kind of splash Jamie was going to make in the international pool.

Another thought occurred after he had a moment to consider his young friends intended rash actions…. _Just how was Jamie going to 'POP OVER' to England? Nobody can apparate that far, not in one go. Just how the hell did he take Julia to Paris and back in the span of a few short hours? According to Julia, he transported them nearly instantaneously_ from California to Paris?

_If the Brits thought Harry Potter was a mystery, wait till they get a load of Jamie Harrison._

* * *

><p>Jamie glanced at his watch, it was just after one in the afternoon, it would be after nine p.m. back in England.<p>

_I guess it's a little late to catch the minister in his office? _

Frowning in thought, he realized he'd have to leave about 1a.m. to catch the Minister first thing in the morning around 9am, England time.

He had a date with Julia tomorrow night, which was his first priority right now, the British Ministry was a very distant second, as far as he was concerned.

_I could take a late supper, catch a few hours of sleep and then head east? _He considered.

_The hell with it! I'm on vacation. Why not catch a late movie and a pizza, take a nap, do the England thing and be back in time for breakfast. I can sleep as late as I want and be all refreshed for my date with Julia tomorrow night._

_Now that sounds like a plan. _

With that plan in mind, Jamie decided to try his hand at a little fishing and drove down to long beach for the afternoon. The sun was beginning to set before Jamie Packed up his fishing gear, giving the day's catch up for a lost cause, though he was really only making a half hearted attempt. He loved the ocean breeze off the peer, the sun, girls in bikinis…

The beach was nearly deserted by the time he left, all the shops along the peer had closed for the evening. A few couples dotted the shore line, enjoying the sunset, hell, most of them were planning to make out as soon as the sun went down.

If he played his cards right, that could be him and Julia in the weeks ahead!

The parking lot's pavement was still warm beneath his sandals as he carefully packed his rod and tackle box in the trunk of his corvette. It was a tight fit, even with his collapsible fishing rod. He headed back to the lonely peer to collect his beach chair. He could have carried it along with the rest of his gear, but he enjoyed the extra walk when it was quiet, and the sunsets were magnificent this time of year.

Jamie lounged on the peer's railing, watching the sun disappear below the horizon, the sky painted rich hues of orange and purple.

He'd just bent to fold his chair when the 'popping' sound of several apparations froze him in place.

" LT. Commander Jamie Harrison ?" A too serious voice inquired from behind.

Jamie didn't bother to reply, he let his instincts take over. He used his beach chair as a spring board to launch himself into a hand stand on the peer's railing, twisted and let himself fall feet first toward the dark waters below casting a _solarus charm _in the direction of parties unknown, to temporarily blind them.

Once clear of the railing, he blended into the shadows and opened a portal to the _twilight realm._

A quick pivot and a moment to shield his hand over his eyes, he stepped out of _twilight_ on the other side of the peer, emerging just as the last vestiges of his_ solarus charm _burnt itself out. He removed his hand and watched in amusement as a half dozen howling idiots swore and stumbled about blindly.

_They were wearing British Auror robes._

_Apparently the British Ministry's Envoy is taking their investigation to a more personal level._

Jamie tapped his elemental abilities and hit the stunned auror's with a concentrated blast of hurricane force winds before they had a chance to recover from his star burst. Five of the aururs blew head over heels right off the peer. One brave soul managed to snag the railing and was holding on precariously by a single hand whilst his comrades hit the water below. As they were a good quarter mile out, they'd have a nice swim ahead of them as one can't _apparate_ in water without risking a sure _splinching_.

Jamie summoned the last auror's wand, which almost finished the job of knocking him into the water with the rest of his comrades.

With a grunt of effort the man managed to swing his other arm up and grab the railing, trying desperately to pull himself to safety.

Through the slats of the railing, Jamie could discern captain's bars on his color and ginger hair on his head-A rather familiar shade of hair.

_It couldn't be?_

Jamie stepped confidently up to the railing. He was holding all the cards and he knew it. He chanced a glance over the railing…

_Sure enough- Ron!_

Ron Weasley was an auror captain.

_No doubt the commander of this bunch of sodden idiots? _He surmised, with no little amusement, considering his once friend's current predicament.

Ron was straining to try and get a toe hold on the side of the peer as his fingers slowly inched their way under the railing so that he could hope to pull his torso up onto the railing's shelf.

_Should I help him?_ He half considered.

_Nay._

Jamie kept the railing between himself and Ron so that the latter couldn't clearly see his face. He probably wouldn't recognize him with the cosmetic changes he'd made and especially after a ten plus year absence, but why take chances.

"Rough going?" He asked with a chuckle.

Ron swore vehemently below him.

Jamie waited patiently till he got his temper under control- _some things never change._

Ron always did swear first and think second.

"A-Are you, H-Harrison?" He gasped out, nearly exhausted from his efforts.

"Could be." Jamie answered guardedly.

" W-We only w-wanted to ask you some q-questions."He defended.

Jamie rolled his eyes. "Sure you did? That's why you waited till I was alone and came in force with wands drawn, right?"

"W-We were only being c-cautious. Y-You're superiors warned us that you c-could b-b-be difficult."Ron gasped in his team's defense.

"My superiors did not tell you where to find me, as they don't know my exact whereabouts, currently. You went to a lot of trouble to find me. Personally, I'm inclined to believe that you already knew where you could find me before you consulted my superiors, which tells me you've had me under surveillance, probably for most of the day. I'm guessing things didn't go as planned with Command, so you took it upon yourselves to make a personal visit. "

" L-Look m-mate…" Ron tried to deflect, but Jamie cut him off.

"No you look, **pal**. Since you were so kind as to pay me a visit, I think it only fitting that I return the favor. I'll be at your damn Ministry at 0900 their time, tomorrow morning. What idiot runs your ministry these days?"

"W-Weasley…."

Ron gasped out.

"What, Percival Weasley? You've got to be kidding me? No wonder you idiots couldn't handle Voldemort and his goon squad."

" M-My b-brother's dead, you arse. My d-dad, A-Arthur Weasley is m-minister." Ron spat back.

" Sorry about your brother." Jamie returned halfheartedly.

" L-Look, can you give me a hand up so we can talk d-decently?" Ron pleaded.

Jamie smirked and leaned over the railing, deciding to drop all pretenses.

Ron 's eyes immediately shot to his exposed face, but recognition did not light his face at seeing his once friend.

"H-Harrison?" he asked.

"Yes and no." Jamie returned cryptically, earning a puzzled look from below.

"Whadaya m-mean yes and n-no?" He choked out angrily.

"Just what I said."

He thought about spilling the beans. Despite the risk, he was dying to see the look on Ron's face once he knew that Jamie Harrison and Harry Potter were one and the same.

He decided discretion being the better part of valor- _who said that anyway?_

"Remember to tell your daddy, 0900 England time- your _Minister's_ office. I suggest he meet me alone, but given tonight's treachery, I'm guessing he won't have the balls. You can also warn him that he could fill the place with aurors and it won't make a smidge of difference. We'll still have our chat, either amicably or after a bunch of aurors get some serious oww-wies." He drawled with a smirk.

"You're m-mental, you are. You can't…?"

"You're wet." Jamie returned and kicked Ron off the peer.

"Yuoooo Bastardddddd!" His voice echoed down to a splash, followed by sputtering and more cursing.

_Hmm, forms a little shaky and a bit too much splash, not to mention the poor sportsmanship, I'd have to give him about a six on that dive. With that last score, Weasley's out of the medal round._

* * *

><p><strong>London, England 0900 hours<strong>

Penelope Clearwater had just finished implementing a barrage of orders from her father in-law, and employer, Arthur Weasley- British Minister of Magic. She'd arrived at the office an hour early , after the Minister had floo called her at home and pointedly gave her a list of duties he required implemented without delay.

_A detachment of aurors posted in and around his office? Why would he need those with Voldemort dead? _He was dead, there was no doubt about that, after all, she'd been the unlucky one to find his head waiting on the Minister's office that morning.

From what she understood, Voldemort's Death Eaters had joined him in death. _So why the auror guard?_

The answer walked into her office with an American accent and a smile on his face, dressed in the unmistakable uniform of a 'Light Strike' officer. That uniform was well known, and feared, amongst the magical community. Seeing one up close was as rare as Haley's comet.

"Good morning, Miss Clearwater, I believe it is? My name is Lt. Commander Jamie Harrison. I believe your Minister is expecting me?" The man inquired with a rather cheeky grin that was a bit disconcerting.

"It's Mrs. Weasley, now." Penelope corrected pointedly. She scanned her appointment book.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't believe you're expected?"

"Really? The man returned churlishly. "Then why all the aurors scattered about the hallway outside and the pair waiting with wands drawn in his office, this very minute? It seems to me that I was expected." The man smiled innocently, but his eyes were twinkling madly in amusement.

'Er….?" Penelope struggled to reply.

"I'll just see myself in then, shall I?"

Before she had a chance to protest, the commander stepped around her desk and entered the Minister's office with a cheery hello.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

Arthur Weasley startled up from the papers he'd been reading, whilst both aurors leveled their wands at his heart.

"Well, it's not the offer of a cup of coffee that I was hoping for, but, it's a start." Jamie returned churlishly, rubbing his hands together bracingly.

"I suppose that you would be Jamie Harrison?" Arthur Weasley asked drolly, peering over the top of his glasses.

The man had aged in his role as minister, be it a term of several years or several months. His thinning red/grey hair was now mostly grey and mostly gone. His face was gaunt and drawn.

"**Lt. Commander **Jamie Harrison." He corrected the minister, "But let us dispense with titles. You may call me Jamie, and I'll call you, Mr. Weasley, or sir- okay?"

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Arthur Weasley's mouth. Despite his trepidation and his youngest son's alarmed warning, over the floo early this morning, he couldn't help but like the way the man carried himself, there was something familiar about the man that Arthur just couldn't quite place.

"My apologies, commander. Please, call me Arthur. Excuse my manners, but,… have we met somewhere before? You seem rather familiar to me." The minister wondered.

"Not in any official capacity that I recall." Jamie answered. "But please, just Jamie, but I feel I must address you as sir, or Mr. Weasley, it's only proper. "

Arthur nodded with an appreciative smile. Despite Ron's opinion on the matter, the man was refreshingly well mannered.

Jamie turned his gaze on the ominously threatening auror presence in the room. "Is this really necessary, sir?" he asked wearily.

Arthur smiled disarmingly. "I'm afraid your reputation preceded you. I believe you met my youngest son, Ronald, yesterday?"

Jamie smirked. "I take it he was able to swim safely to shore, then?"

"Quite." Mr. Weasley verified un-amusedly.

Jamie raised his eyebrows at the tone. "If your son feels he was mistreated, he may of course file a grievance with 'Light Strike' command, or seek me out in person. For my part, I believe I was rather gentle, considering the man and his cohorts never identified themselves and came at me from behind with wands drawn, **like now," **he pointed out and continued: "without warrant, on American soil where he has no jurisdiction, they proceeded to actually fire upon my person and to top it off, he obviously had the unmitigated gall to whine to daddy after."

Mr. Weasley's expression turned grave. "I see. I assure you that I'll be discussing the matter with Capt. Weasley upon his return to England. I apologize for the overzealous actions of both my aurors and family in this matter. You may, of course, file a grievance with this office. I give you my personal guarantee that the matter will be handled appropriately and expediently. I will not tolerate members of this administration operating outside of established guideline parameters."

Jamie waved him off. "I appreciate the offer, but that won't be necessary. To show that there are no hard feelings, I'll, of course, reimburse the auror team that tried to apprehend me for their inconvenience, new uniforms, time lost ect…"

"That's very gracious, but also, not necessary. I thank you though, for the offer."

Jamie nodded amicably.

Arthur turned his attention to the aurors present. "Snell, Everix, you are dismissed. Please tell the aurors outside to resume their previous duties."

" But sir, the captain's orders…?" Snell tried to argue, still holding his wand on Jamie.

"The captain's orders are superseded by my own." Arthur overruled the man. "Besides, I am in no danger from the good commander am I?' Arthur nodded toward Jamie, pointedly.

"Quite the contrary, sir." Jamie reassured the minister that his intentions were benign.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "Dismissed gentlemen."

Once the aurors had vacated the office, Mr. Weasley asked. "Now then, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, sir, I believe that's a two way question, it's what I can do for you, and you in turn for me? If we can come to an agreement, then I should be on my way within the hour, if not…?" Jamie left off with a dark look that needed no further explanation.

Arthur's smile faltered slightly at that, but he remained positive. "What do you propose?"

"Firstly, I think we can agree that Voldemort is indeed, deceased."

Arthur nodded his agreement.

"His capture or elimination was sanctioned by this Ministry,I have in my possession the order stating such and its contractual agreement with 'Light Strike' to proceed immediately with that directive. The agreed upon sum for satisfactory completion of said contract is one million galleons."

Mr. Weasley made to interject, but Jamie cut him off.

"Rebuttal is not necessary , as I said "satisfactory completion" of said contract. Obviously, your ministry is not satisfied, agreed?"

"Do not misunderstand me, er, Jamie.? We are quite relieved that Voldemort's reign of terror has ended by the destruction of the man himself. It's the collateral damage that resulted which has jeopardized this administration. Firstly, we wish to ascertain for a certainty that 'Light Strike', namely your team is responsible for Voldemort's termination. That being the case, what, if any reparations 'Light Strike ' would be willing to concede?"

"In other words, did I kill him- as we both know I implied in my letter, but if you feel it warranted, I can give you complete details on his termination? Secondly, you'd like us to accept a pat on the back for a job well done, in lieu of payment, whilst your ministry puts it's hand in our pocket looking for loose change to offset the unexpected costs of lawsuits brought by Death Eater families who feel themselves unduly faced with hardship not based upon their family's poor choices, but their own short sightedness in preparing for the eventuality that Voldemort might actually lose in his bid at self appointed dictator. Now before you deny any and all of the above, let me fist ally your fears…. I killed Voldemort, me, myself. My team was not involved in the incident."

Jamie proceeded to divulge the entire event of Voldemort's demise, finishing with…

"If you're interested, his last words were "Oh, Shit!" He quoted.

Mr. Weasley at first looked stunned, but his initial response turned to one of amusement as a grin appeared and he asked… "No dialog about his invincibility? No false offers of power and wealth?"

Jamie rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he might have, had he the time before my blade took his head. It was quick and painless, probably far better than he deserved." Jamie conjectured.

"Quite." Arthur Weasley agreed.

"Can we at least agree at this point that I, in fact, killed Voldemort, that he is dead and his Death Eater collaterally along with him? Let me also point out that by Ministry edict; Anyone bearing the Dark Mark shall be considered a member of a terrorist organization and subsequently, guilty of treason, thereby punishable by apprehension by any and all means including lawful death."

"You've studied our laws." Arthur Weasley surmised with business like regard.

"I've kept abreast of them, yes, and as such, I know for a fact that I have not broken any law within your country."

"I'm inclined to agree, however, our wizengamot, may not see it that way?

Jamie nodded and proceeds with a dangerous undertone in his voice. "No, they probably won't as most of them are probably sympathizers to Voldemort's notion of 'blood superiority'. You've got real problems in this country with bigotry and short sightedness. I've helped eliminate only one such problem for you. An integral part of it, but now that the way is clear, the real work needs to begin and quickly. To make that happen, you wish to first appease those that continue to hold with outdated ideas of blood and class superiority. They sided with Voldemort and rather than let them reap what they have sown, you wish to throw galleons at them, which will only serve to endow and empower them to continue along- sneering at the rest of the populace."

"Some of them are deserving, if misguided individuals. Some are completely innocent and ignorant of their partners and parents past affiliations with the disposed dark lord. A great many others suffer hardships imposed on them by both sides during the war."

Jamie's reaction turned incredulous. "And you expect 'Light Strike 'to play the scapegoat? I'm of the opinion that you're much vaunted 'Unspeakable Division' had some notion that killing Voldemort would result in a domino effect with any and all who bear his mark. That idea amongst others explains why they never eliminated the swine themselves. How many amongst them were found to have bared the mark?"

"If we could have killed him, we would have. Merlin's sake, we could never even ferret out the fiend's location, let alone kill him. The relative ease with which you dispatched him hardly lends you any credit? This entire administration, including the wizengamot has valid concerns regarding this incident. They are suspicious of the fact that you dispatched Voldemort so readily when our own people failed to have done so for want of ten years of trying and failing. They're furthermore speculative regarding the incident as a prophesy was made many years ago that concerns the Dark Lords demise, and clearly states that only one person had the power to destroy him. You, sir,... are not that man. " Arthur defended his Ministry's stance.

Jamie sat back in his chair and contemplated the man coolly for several moments, deciding whether or not to throw caution to the wind. He decided not.

"I came here today to offer you five million galleons. The funds will be placed in an international banking system that is not under goblin control. It shall be available to any and all parties in twenty-five thousand galleon payments, provided they can show proof of actual hardship imposed as a result of damages incurred by Death Eater **activity**." He stressed the word activity as it could be implied either as a result of Death Eater victimization, or the loss of said Death Eater instilling hardship on the family.

"Have your people draw up an appropriate form for my consideration. Any funds remaining in the account after a period of five years will return to me."

" Y-You're giving us your own funds?" Arthur asked astounded.

" I'm not giving you anything. I'm merely providing relief for those that have truly suffered as a result of your damned war, providing they can justify it. I won't make the funds directly available to this Ministry, or the Gringott's Goblins, as both have historically proven to be untrustworthy on the whole, especially where money and power are concerned. You may take that any way you wish, but I did not mean it as directly offensive to your person. I have found you to be an honorable person."

Arthur Weasley scrutinized the man in front of him closely, but his face gave nothing away.

"You speak as if you know me, yet you claim to have never met me?".

"Not in an official capacity." Jamie reiterated.

"In an unofficial capacity then?"

"Does one need to actually meet someone to have their measure? Your past deeds speak for themselves, sir. Accept the compliment and move on graciously." Jamie suggested in a bored tone.

"We requested the sum of eight million galleons?" He reminded Jamie.

"And would have settled for half that, had you a leg to stand on in international court. I might have actually given you the eight million had you asked nicely and not sent your son and his goon squad over to extort 'Light strike' and subsequently use my apprehension as a tool of leverage along that vein. Just so we understand one another, I still expect that your ministry will pay 'Light Strike' for services rendered.

Arthur Weasley's face soured at that last, but after a moment's consideration, he recanted.

"I agree to your terms.,, however, and please don't take offense, but can you actually afford five million galleons?

"That and many times it, yes. However, my financial concerns are my own. Do not for a moment consider that I am a well to which you can return to sate your thirst. I'll have the appropriate paperwork drawn up that will exonerate myself and 'Light Strike' from any wrongdoing and any further financial responsibility in this matter. That said, do not test me, Minister. Keep in mind the next time you send aurors after me with dubious intentions that I found your Voldemort hardly worth the effort. If it happens again, I'll consider their intentions hostile and respond accordingly to all parties involved."

His implication was quite clear; there would be bloodshed the next time, and most likely on the British side. Light Strike operatives had a reputation the world over. First and foremost, they were a rescue organization. Secondly, a anti-terrorist task force. Third and by no means last; a search and destroy operation. When a job was too tenuous and all other means met with failure, Light Strike was called in. They weren't mercenaries; a brigade of well trained mercenaries wouldn't stand a chance against a single Light Strike team. Light Strike was very selective in what type of assignments they took. They weren't assassins, but if the parties involved warranted an expedient execution, then they were as good as dead.

As well trained and respected as the Ministry's own Unspeakable Division was the world over, it paled by comparison to Light Strike. Light Strike was simply the best of the best and those in positions of command were the elite. To be so elevated to a command level position at such a young age as the man sitting across from him spoke volumes.

Jamie Harrison was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous men in not only the magical, but the entire world over.

Ron and his team had been sent over to negotiate with, not forcibly attempt to seize one of Light Strikes top operatives. As brilliant a chess master as his youngest son is, sometimes Ron had the tendency to impulsively blunder forward in the real world without giving thought to the consequences of his actions.

Sitting before his desk was one such consequence.

Instead of a priceless ally, they now had at best a lost opportunity, at worst; a potentially dangerous adversary.

At hearing his guest's impatient sigh, Arthur turned his direct attention back to his visitor.

"My apologies, Mr. Harrison, I was lost in thought over our present situation. I can't begin to apologize enough for the misunderstanding and can assure that our auror captain will be punished accordingly for his overzealous actions. This office does not condone _free lancing_. Ronald was not trained to behave in such a fashion, nor was he raised this way. I am most displeased and humbly request that you not judge us entirely by the actions of a few. I can only add that Ron may let his emotions get the better of him in this instance. You see, both his brother and his brother in-law were among those that perished when Voldemort fell and well,… his sisters has been quite over wrought to say the least."

Jamie noted that Mr. Weasley strategically avoided mentioning that his former son-in law must have been by necessity, a marked Death Eater, to have died along with Voldemort.

_Still, kindness cost nothing._

Jamie inclined his head in acceptance. "An, er, understandable reaction, given the circumstances. Might I add unfortunate, as well. You have my condolences on your family's loss. I regret my part in this hard ship that has befallen your family. Unfortunately, no matter who wins a war and for whatever reason they fought, all sides ultimately lose. I would that we had met under different circumstances."

"As do I." Mr. Weasley added with sincere regret. "Please, contact me if there's anything this office can do to aid you in future endeavors. I'll have my secretary provide you with my private floo address as well as my private cell number before you leave."

"T-That's very gracious of you, thank you." Jamie accepted gratefully. "I would at least be glad to report back that we have made a potential future ally in this neck of the world?" he asked hopeful that something positive could be salvaged.

Mr. Weasley had always been kind to him. Whatever falling out he'd had with Ron and Ginny, as far he knew, Mr and Mrs. Weasley had not shared in their youngest children's views on Harry Potter.

"I believe you have, yes." Mr. Weasley agreed, rising to take the man's hand in parting.


	8. Chapter 8: Something new is old again

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

**Chapter Eight:**

**Something New is Old Again**

He returned in plenty of time for his date with Julia. Of course when you could travel thousands of miles in little more than a blink of an eye, it gave one a distinct time saving advantage. As it was a mild evening, he chanced wearing a light linen jacket over a button down shirt , jeans and blue dragon hide boots,( courtesy of a Norwegian Ridgeback- _not_ Norbert).

Julia met him in jeans and a form fitting fisherman's sweater that hugged her curves to his utter distraction. As it was the particular reaction she'd hoped for, Julia didn't mind his distractibility in the least. In fact, she found it rather flattering that she could make the erstwhile Jamie Harrison, a.k.a., Harry Potter, blush like a schoolboy every time she caught him sneaking a glance or outright staring.

They drove up the cost with the convertible's top down. Jamie, ever the gentleman, performed a wandless _stasis charm_ that saved her hair style, for which she was entirely grateful as she'd spent a considerable amount of time getting the illusion of 'carefree curls' just right.

Jamie took them to a little Italian Bistro where they enjoyed a candle lit dinner for two, serenaded by a wandering violinist. Somewhere during the dinner, Jamie had confessed under much scrutiny, that he'd got the idea from Disney's "Lady and the Tramp", but he hadn't the courage to order the spaghetti with meatballs for two.

Julia found it boyishly charming and wholly endearing. Secretly: she'd wished he had ordered the spaghetti with meatballs,… maybe they would have gotten as lucky as Lady and Tramp had.

After dinner, Jamie took them to a quiet little night club that catered to romantic slow dances, where'd they danced the night away looking into each other's eyes and conversing over simple things, getting to know each other on a more intimate level.

Reluctantly he returned her home just before one a.m. Neither wanted the date to end, but neither wanted to give her father-his boss, a reason to disapprove either.

After a moment's hesitation at her door, Jamie surprised her by leaning in and softly kissing her cheek.

She surprised him by returning the favor and lightly placing a chaste kiss on his lips as she brushed her fingertips lightly down his jaw line.

She left him in a dreamy haze, falling back against the door with a sigh of half satisfaction/half regret.

Julia removed her slip-ons and quietly made her way up to her room, trying not to wake her mother who was a notoriously light sleeper. As much as she'd like to share the intimacies of this second date with her mother, there was something about tonight that she wanted to keep just for herself.

Later she would come to realize that; this was the night she'd begun to fall in love.

Julia glided into the kitchen the next morning, in a world of her own.

Her father had politely enquired how her date had gone last night to which she only smiled wistfully by way of an answer.

Her mother raised a knowing eyebrow before smirking at her worried appearing father.

_Jamie would be the death of the poor man_. He was every daughter's dream, and every father's nightmare: the man who would replace him in his daughter's heart.

After several hours of Julia's unsettling silence, Gail could take no more and asked her 'idly staring out the window at nothing', daughter to quit stalling and tell her how her date had gone?

" It was wonderful, mom." Julia answered, her eyes gazing vacantly out the family room window.

"Where did you go? What did you do? Come-on, girl, I want details!" her mother chirruped excitedly.

Julia smiled vaguely at her mother but said nothing more.

After several anxious moments her disgruntled mother asked," You're not going to spill are you?"

Julia smiled and shook her head.

"Of all the cheap,… you're no daughter of mine." Her mother groused before stomping out of the room.

* * *

><p>While Julia was teasing her mother, Jamie was going thru his usual workout routine, only her was cruising through it at with renewed vigor, feeling more alive today than he had in many months, years even.<p>

Normally, he'd be very wary of feeling this good because the universe usually exacted a heavy toll on a 'Happy Harry Potter', but today he just couldn't help himself. He spent the better part of the morning setting up the relief fund account and subsequent applications to those seeking aid through his solicitor and his financial institution. It was a headache, but a necessary one. In truth he felt a sense of closure and profound relief when he'd sign the papers authorizing the transfer of funds to Swiss International, who would oversee the fund for a low fee keeping in spirit with the charitable atmosphere.

He was at last free of Voldemort and that damned life sucking prophesy. Free of the pain brought by Dumbledore's and his once friend's betrayals. Free of England and maybe, just maybe, he was free of the shadow of Harry Potter.

Jeff had called after supper to tell him that the British Ministry had wired payment in full to their financial office, and to pass on Command's compliments on a job well done all the way around. Apparently ,Minister Weasley had been so impressed by Jamie that he had enquired into securing Light Strike's services on retainer, a very lucrative retainer at that.

That should have been his first clue that the other shoe was about to drop and the Universe was about to exact its toll.

Likewise, alarm bells should have gone off when Jeff haltingly mentioned that Minister Weasley had enquired after him directly in relation to his ministry's and the public's desire to honor him at a reward ceremony in gratitude over his freeing them all from the threat of Voldemort's terror campaign.

The fact that he was already neck deep and someone was kicking dirt over his head finally registered the warning when Jeff asked accusingly "Just what did you do to my daughter that has her wondering around the house with a sappy grin on her face?"

" Wait a minute,… what?" Jamie asked coming out of his own stupor.

" I said; What did you do to my daughter that…"

" Not that." Jamie interrupted. " What did you say about an award?"

"The Brits want to honor you, haven't you been listening?" Jeff shot back in exasperation.

"No. No way. It's not gonna happen, Jeff." Jamie growled warily. He could feel his hackles rise in warning. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

" It's just another award, Jamie. Think of it as a promotional opportunity." Jeff tried to reason, adding. "You've done them before. Besides, it makes Light Strike look good."

_DANGER Will Robinson! DANGER-DANGER! _The robot's voice from 'Lost in Space' echoed through his mind.

" Not interested" He returned coolly.

Jeff could feel his receiver turn cold in his hand and marveled at the strength of Jamie's magic that the very elements seemed to respond in like to his mood.

"I-It's not really a request, Jamie." He attempted to explain. "Command sees this as an opportunity to enter into the European market in a big way…"

Jamie ignored the rest of Jeff's sales pitch. Light Strike- the world's premiere anti-terrorist and rescue operation was showing the initial signs of turning mercenary, selling their services to the highest bidder. What's more; they wanted him to pose as their 'poster boy' for the European market. Jamie Harrison was about to get the Harry Potter treatment in spades.

"I resign effective immediately. My formal resignation will be on your desk in the morning." Jamie responded hurriedly, his mind racing miles ahaead of this conversation.

"W-what?" Jeff sputtered in stunned disbelief. " Jamie , you can't just…?"

"It's done. I shouldn't have to remind the Commander that my tour of enlistment officially ended 0900 yesterday morning. Light Strike has no legal claim to my services in any capacity as I have not formally entered into any contractual negotiation nor signed any letter of intent. All that's required of me is a letter of resignation to formally sever all ties with Light Strike. I hereby state that intention. Just tell me one thing, Jeff, you owe me that much? Tell me you didn't use Julia as a bargaining chip?"

" Jamie…. " Jeff began in a wounded tone.

" Thanks ,Jeff… I didn't mean to offend you or Gail, certainly not, Julia, but,… I had to be sure."

There was a brief pause on the line…" Night, Jeff." Jamie choked out despondently and the line went dead.

Jamie swiped his sleeve over his eyes. This wasn't the time for tears-that would come later, if there was a later to call his own.

He glanced at his watch, figuring he had at best ten to fifteen minutes. He ran to his office and quickly entered a preset code on his laptop that started the contingency program that he'd hoped to never have to use. His accounts were electronically transferred to secure numbered accounts in the Cayman Islands, Zurich and South Africa. Following that' all evidence of Jamie Harrison's existence was being systemically erased from every national and international database, dental records, picture identification- the works. In three minutes or less, Jamie Harrison will have never been.

He emptied his wall safe of his emergency funds, sealed letter and predetermined new identification complete with Australian driver's license, passport, port key, local cell and house keys to his ranch in Western Australia, on the coast between Braselton and Perth. Fleetingly he'd considered British Columbia, but his time in California had spoiled him. He liked the sand, sun and surf.

Australia beckons.

For his last official act as Jamie Harrison- he transferred the title of his beach house to Julia Taylor. It was a good house and he wanted someone he cared about to be able to enjoy it. Who knows, maybe one day he could return for a visit- _yeah right!_

His laptop started to smoke, signaling the beginning of its core melt down. He'd set his emergency contingency plan program with a failsafe that once complete, the computer's core would irreversibly destroy itself. He could just banish the computer, but this way Light Strike would waste valuable time trying to reconstruct the now- 'Dell' paperweight, in a vain attempt to try and track his whereabouts.

He collected his pre-packed trunk that contained his most personal possessions; the Firebolt Sirius had given him for Christmas, the picture album Hagrid had made for him of his parents, his Griffyndor seeker's jersey and the picture Colin Creevey had taken of him and Hermione sharing a rare dance at the Yule Ball. That was another of many nights that Ron had ruined for her in one of his unwarranted jealous tantrums.

He took a moment to reflect at how lenient he had been with Ron the other day. Maybe it was a sign of maturity, or maybe he just didn't even give enough of a damn to bother killing the arse. Though in retrospect, betrayal and the further insult of spitting on him hardly seemed to warrant such a harsh recompense.

The many times he'd hurt Hermione, however? Yes, Ron had gotten off easily, too easily. _Ah, well… maybe next time_. Because as sure as the universe loved to screw with Harry Potter, that meant Ron Weasley would one day reenter the picture.

The beach house began to vibrate beneath his feet, signaling a breach of his outermost wards.

Jamie glanced down at his watch-_ten minutes, how predictably disappointing_. Jeff may have been his friend, maybe he still was, but, first and foremost he was a member of Light Strike Command. He must have reported him only seconds after he'd disconnected their call.

The vibrations beneath his feet became more pronounced- the secondary defense wards just went up. He could sit here for ages and whoever was outside would be still outside. Taking a leaf out of Dumbles page, (he may have hated the bastard, but he was a brilliant bastard, all the same), he patterned his secondary wards after the blood wards that Dumbles had placed at the Dursleys.

As long as he lived, nothing could penetrate the wards outside. He could simply sit here till he died of starvation or old age before the wards would finally dissipate. As long as a Potter lived inside the ward line, the wards would remain active. Once he was safely away, he'd return briefly to disable the wards so that Julia could access the property. He should have known his attempt at a relationship was doomed to failure. At least things with Julia would break off before she ended up dead like 'Mione.

By the sound of the heavy wand fire outside, his visitors were getting pretty frustrated. He peered through the blinds on his windows. He couldn't make out their faces at this distance, though most likely they were shrouded, but he knew those silhouettes anywhere. He ought too; he'd trained the ungrateful bastards. That was Anderson and Warner outside leading the newly formed 'Omega' team.

He should just go, make a clean break of it, but the fact that his former subordinates were leading the extraction team outside with the dubious intention of taking him in for 'debriefing', or some such. In other words; they were her to make sure he went along with whatever shite 'Light Strike' had in mind for him for the sole betterment of 'Light Strike', any benefit he was derive would be wholly secondary, and unintentional.

_He should just go._

_Oh the hell with it…._

Jamie grabbed a cold beer out of the fridge for effect. He popped the top, took a quick swig, grabbed a fresh six pack and flung open his front door.

"Evening boys, care for a cold one?" Jamie held up the six pack for emphasis.

"By order of "light Strike Command you are hereby….."

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah" Jamie cut him off. "Warner you and Anderson got a helluva a nerve bringing this shite to my front door! What'll the neighbors think?" He snorted a laugh as he channeled his dear, absent Aunt Petunia.

"Lt. Commander Harrison, you are ordered to report to 'Light Strike' Command central for debriefing and reassignment. Please lower the wards on your property an accompany us-immediately." Warner called out.

"Sheesh, do I sound like that?" Jamie scoffed incredulously. "My contract expired yesterday, boys. I'm a civilian now. No more "Light Strike' orders for me."he crowed happily.

" Command wants…Jamie, Please…"

"Awe cut the crap , Warner." Jamie shot back angrily stunning the man out of his attempt at placating.

"While you're at it tell Ramirez to quit trampling all over the hedge. I don't own this place anymore and I don't think the new owner will be pleased with what you twerps are doing to the landscaping. The offer of a cold beer was a sincere one?" He reiterated good naturedly.

" Sure, Jamie, why don't you just bring it over here for us?" Anderson asked in a falsely conniving tone.

"Funny,… but I've a better idea." Jamie snapped his fingers and the six-pack vanished from his hand and reappeared directly in front of Anderson's startled eyes.

" How the hell did you…." Anderson stammered.

Jamie shrugged. "Magic, and you're welcome."

" Knock it off, Jamie." Warner called out . "This isn't a joke. 'Light Strike wants you to come in and command wants it now!"

Jamie made a show of analyzing his fingernails as he answered nonchalantly. "I repeat, I'm a civilian and not subject to Light Strike's orders. So yes, this is a joke. I know a better one though. Did I tell you fellows the one about the Goblin and the Farmer's daughter?"

"If you won't come peaceably, we've been authorized to use force!" Anderson warned.

"I guess I was wrong about you two. Are you so eager to make a name for your selves that you don't care what dirty job you take or who it involves? We're friends, comrades, brothers even,… or had you forgot in your zeal to show off for the brass? Do you even know why command sent you out here tonight? They want me as a poster boy so they can enter the European theater and get in on the big money. It isn't about saving lives and righting wrongs anymore. It's all about galleons now. I resigned my commission the moment they suggested it and so should you. I'm in a forgiving mood, despite the fact that you lot showed up here and brought this crap to my doorstep. Out of past considerations I'm willing to let bygones be bygones, but…. If 'Light Strike' sends anyone else after me in any capacity, ' Light Strike' will be the one in need of rescuing."

A long pregnant pause ensued before Warner called out."Command isn't going to like that answer. Are you sure this is how you want things left between us , Jamie?"

" I'll answer that by throwing my cards on the table. The names not Jamie Harrison, it's,…

HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

Harry slammed his front door closed. He'd laid his cards on the table, now it was time to kick the damn table over.

He grabbed up his travel bag that contained a change of clothes and his few cherished possessions and a respectable amount of traveling cash

With barely a thought, he opened a twilight portal and two steps later emerged in the master bedroom of his Australian ranch house near Perth.

He barely wasted enough time throwing his bag on the bed before he opened another portal and emerged in a darkened supply room at the British Ministry of Magic.

Adjusting for London time, it was just going noon.

_Maybe the Minister would join him for lunch? It couldn't hurt to ask, could it?_

He made his way down the polished tile floor of the hallway to the minister's office, grim faced with a stride to match. The clap of his boot heels echoed ominously behind him, sending nearby personnel scurrying into nearby offices, not their own and not caring.

Harry brushed past the Minister's secretary; "I'll just pop in for a quick surprise" He called out cheerily, not giving the startled woman a chance to waylay him from his impetuous course.

Barging in the doorway to the minister's office, his eyes focused on the startled man pivoting in his direction. Absently he registered the presence of two others; a ginger haired man and a brunette female were sitting in front of the minister's desk. The man was red haired and easily recognizable, the woman….?

"C-Commander Harrison…?" Arthur Weasley stammered uncertainly.

" You couldn't let it go, could you?" Harry accused angrily, ignoring the rising minister's proffered hand.

" What the hell..?" Ron began to turn out of his chair.

"Sit your arse down and listen for a change, Ronniekins." Harry clamped a vise like hand on Ron's shoulder and urged him, (none too gently), back into his seat.

Harry held an impotently squirming Ron easily with one hand while he turned his attention back to the minister, ignoring the female completely.

"I warned you did I not? I told you the matter was closed and you agreed to my terms, you called them generous even."

"I-I don't understand. I only imparted to your command that we wished to show our g-gratitude. We want to present you with our nation's highest honor; The Order of Merlin."

Arthur Weasley tried to explain in a placating fashion despite his growing anxiety over the Commander's unexpected reaction to his Ministry's request to honor him at an award ceremony.

Harry smiled a cold, frightening smile as he wandlessly vanished his color altering eye contacts and dropped the glamour hiding his world renowned scar and letting his hair fade back to its raven black coloring.

"Does the offer still stand for Harry Potter?"

He'd ignored the rasp of a wand being drawn behind his back, but the gasp that followed at his revelation chilled him to the bone.

He recognized that startled intake of breath, having heard it dozens of times in past during his ultimately tragic school years at Hogwarts.

Harry yanked Ron's head back by his hair, eliciting a yelp of startled pain from his once co-best mate.

His eyes glowed with emerald fury as they bore into Ron's surprised ones.

"You let me think she was dead, you bastard!" he hissed with barely constrained malevolence.

He wanted to kill Ron as he had never wanted to kill anyone intentionally before, maybe save Voldemort, but after all that tosser had more than earned his final death sentence and then some.

"L-Let him g-go" _Hermione's_ voice demanded uncertainly from behind.

Harry reluctantly obeyed and thrust Ron's head forward with such violent force that his head bounced off his father's desk in front of him and he slumped back into his chair with a groan.

It was a simple act with such a short confined move that it seemed nigh impossible that he could have put so much strength into the move, with so little effort on his part, but he did.

It was a shattering display of physical power.

"Stop that!" Hermione barked with more confidence from behind, pressing her wand into the small of Harry's back.

"Turn around." She demanded.

Harry could feel her wand reluctantly leave his back as she took a hesitant step back to allow him to move.

He was about to turn, when she warned, "Slowly."

Harry stood rock still at that, his eyes finding Arthur Weasley, who remained sitting quietly wide eyed during the entire exchange.

He held Arthur's gaze, but his words were for his once friend.

_Friend? He had wanted so much more than that, once upon a time._

"What do you hope to see, **Hermione**,… repentance?" He asked calmly. " The rat bastard hit me with a _reductor curse_ when Dumbledore betrayed and tried to frame me, for he himself letting that bastard, Voldemort, get away. Dumbles couldn't stand the thought the _boy wonder_ would get the glory for yet another Dark Lord slain. In retrospect, I doubt he really did in Grindelwald to end the first war. More likely some other willing dupe did the deed, conveniently meeting his end in the process, leaving Dumbles the opportunity to claim the accolades."

Surprisingly, it was Arthur Weasley who addressed his summation.

"That is a distinct possibility I'd considered myself, H-Harry,… after seeing his betrayal of you come to light after that circus of a hearing he tried to convict you at."

"Little late for you to try and make amends, **Minister**." He hissed his title with such vehemence that the blood drained from Arthur Weasley's face.

Harry had little reason to trust the Ministry of the past, nor himself now, for that matter.

"Don't think I don't suspect one of those stunners sent my way had originated from yours and/or Mrs. Weasley's wands,..Min-is-terrr." Harry hissed his accusation.

Despite the dread filling his stomach, Arthur Weasley summoned up his Griffyndor courage and answered apologetically…

"One of them was, Harry, much to my regret. I was one of the fools who blindly believed in and followed Dumbledore. In some ways we were no better than Death Eaters in that we blindly trusted in someone who was only interested in putting forward his own agenda not the interest of 'The Greater Good'." He quoted Dumbledore's favorite saying sarcastically.

Harry wanted to believe the sincere look on his once surrogate father's face- he wanted to, but he dared not.

His eyes must have reflected his dilemma, for Arthur Weasley nodded his head in reluctant understanding, knowing he had little reason to even hope that Harry could one day forgive him and his family's treachery.

He, like the rest of Wizarding Britain, had wrongly believed that Harry had died. When Voldemort was killed, he began to suspect, hope even, for he knew from his children that only Harry was prophesized to have the power to destroy the once Dark Lord.

Now the evidence to support his suspicion was standing before him in the flesh. He longed to embrace this once-seventh son in his arms and beg his forgiveness. He wished that the green penetrating gaze of his children's once greatest friend looked at him as they once did; with respect and love, instead of the pity and mistrust they now held for him.

His futile hopes were interrupted by the all but forgotten, Hermione.

"Turn around" Hermione demanded once more, only now there was the faintest hint of pleading in her voice.

Harry smiled wanly at Mr. Weasley, but answered Hermione. "Why, so you can gawk at the famous scar on my forehead? You remember how much I hate that, don't you? Maybe you need to see my mother's eyes? Will that make it real for you?" His voice began to take a sarcastic, bitter edge.

"They told me you were dead, but you let me go on believing it was so. I don't know which of you I hate more for that?"

"H-Harry,…I…"

Harry cut off her tear wrought words contemptibly pointing out. "You could have sent an owl? Not Hedwig of course, since the bastards killed my beautiful girl just to wound me further."

His eyes snapped back to Arthur's shuddering form. "Yes, I know about that. Was it Ginny? It must've been either her or Ron because they were two of the only three people besides myself that Hedwig trusted enough to let get near her?"

"T-They weren't thinking, Harry. They weren't themselves. Your supposed betrayal was so fresh on their minds and…." He tried to defend his children's actions.

"They murdered my first and as it turns out, only true friend." He spat.

Arthur Weasley nodded reluctantly his agreement with Harry's accusation. _What more could be said?_

" T-Turn a-around…" Hermione's tear wrought voice begged this time.

"Harry Potter is dead to the wizarding world in every way that counts. Let him stay dead, Hermione." He answered hollowly.

His eyes locked on Arthur Weasleys as he bargained.

"Let him stay dead, and I will forgo my vengeance on you and yours. Let the world go on believing I'm dead as far as the British Wizarding world is concerned,… and I will trouble you no further. That is my price. I think you will agree that it is most generous, considering the depth of your family's betrayal to me and mine?"

Arthur Weasley was crying in his shame now. " H-Harry,… can't we….?"

"Swear it and I'll trouble you no futher? I'd rather that, than the alternative. For if you drag me back unwillingly into the public eye, than all bets are off."

"I don't understand?' Arthur Weasley pleaded.

"Of course you don't." Harry acknowledged. Reluctantly he clarified.

"I was content in my new life, my role in 'Light Strike'. I was helping people. I was making a difference. I had friends. I was beginning to date again, for the first time since…."

Hermione choked a sob from behind at that.

"I had the makings of a good life, a life without the notoriety that comes with being Harry Potter, but that all changed when you started meddling into my affairs. All I asked was to be left alone, but you just couldn't bloody do it, COULD YOU?" he thundered.

" I-I'm sorry, Harry. We didn't know? How could we?" Arthur tried to defend half heartedly.

" Don't give me that, you suspected. That's why you started meddling in the first place." Harry retorted angrily.

"What did you harbor some romantic notion that once found I would actually forgive you **Weasleys**?" he spat the name as if it were poison.

The reddening of Arthur's face was all the answer Harry required to know he'd guessed right.

"Well that's not gonna happen so put it out of your mind. The best you can hope for is what I'm offering. Forget all about Harry Potter and he'll do his best to forget about you. Drag me back into the spot light, and you'll wish you had Voldemort to contend with over the destruction that I'll rain down upon you." He threatened coolly.

"T-The Harry Potter I knew would never threaten his friends, never." Hermione gasped in outrage from behind.

"The Harry Potter you knew is dead, haven't you figured that out yet? He died on the battlefield when his friends cursed him into unconsciousness then left him to rot in Azkaban, before dragging him naked and bleeding into the wizengamot to stand trial for Dumbledore's betrayal. Where said, Dumbledore, tried to legally rob him of the fortune he'd already been illegally stealing for years for his own "GREATER GOOD"."

" R-Ron didn't? he wouldn't have…?" Hermione desperately tried to convince him.

"He spit on me when the dragged me in! Dressed in new, expensive robes he was. Likewise, Ginny next to him with a smirking Malfoy on her arm, sneering down at me like I was a piece of dirt."

" T-That's not true? It can't be true?" Hermione nearly wailed.

"It's as true as the fact that I loved you, and Ron knew it. No doubt the jealous arse couldn't stand the thought of it, so he readily jumped on Dumble's anti-Harry band wagon."

"S-She loves me." Ron growled next to him, obviously having regained conscious and had been quietly listening in on their conversation.

"No doubt she does, though I doubt she had all the facts before she made her choice, did she, Ronnekins?" Harry sneered

"We're married and have two children now. " He growled in absolute triumph by way of an answer.

"I thought as much when I heard her gasp and knew she was still alive and that you lot had lied to me at the farce of a hearing, Ronniekins. Allow me to congratulate the groom."

Harry's elbow shot out light like lightning and caught Ron on the side of the jaw, sending him spinning to the floor- unconscious before he hit.

"Stop that!" Hermione demanded angrily, grinding her wand tip into Harry's back threateningly.

Harry did the impossible, he apparated within the Ministry. He disappeared without the slightest disruption to the surrounding air and reappeared just as silently, next to Hermione's arm, catching her wand hand in a vice like grip which he trained on Arthur Weasley.

Too late, Hermione shot off a stunner before she could stop herself, hitting the minister, (her father in-law), right in the chest.

Arthur Weasley fell over his desk with an unconscious thud as Hermione yelped in pain from Harry's vise-like grip on her forearm.

Harry green eyes burned angrily into her startled brown ones.

She couldn't believe the change in her friend. His face was fuller, stronger. He no longer carried the haunted, harried look of his youth. Now he radiated confidence and vitality. He stood several inches taller than her, just an inch or two shy of Ron's six foot- five inch frame. He wasn't as broad and heavily muscled as Ron, but she could tell by the way that his shirt stretched across his chest and by the grip on her wrist that Harry was built more for speed, and strength,.. a lot of strength. He still had the lightning fast reflexes of a world class seeker, perhaps he was even faster than he was before. He moved with the grace and agility of a top notch athlete, but there was something harder there, unyielding. No, not an athlete, a soldier!

Harry was surveying the changes in Hermione while she was doing likewise with him. Her bushy hair was now relaxed and flowed in waves down to her shoulders. Her lips were fuller and her eyes still glowed with intelligence. She'd filled out more and was well rounded in both hips and chest. _Nicely rounded_.

Her increased beauty, while appreciating to the eye, only served to deepen the ache in his chest for what might have been, but now could never be.

Harry's eyes grew sad, lost and melancholy.

" There was a time when I would have never believed you would turn a wand on me, but there was also a time when I would have never believed Ron would spit on me in his betrayal."

Harry gently released her wrist but warned. "Don't ever turn your wand on me again, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head. "There's still a warrant out for you from before, Harry. There's questions about Voldemort and what happened to the rest of the Death Eaters, as well?"

She reminded him.

"He died, I lived. I'm sorry if that disappoints you and the rest of the wizarding world, Hermione." He surmised in cool sarcasm.

Hermione's expression grew cross. "Of course it doesn't disappoint me, Harry. How could you even think that?"

"The same way I would have never thought you'd let me go on believing you were dead, Hermione. The same way I blindly trusted Dumbledore and learned to my eternal regret what a mistake that was. The same way that I trusted my once friend to care for my beloved Hedwig. I felt it when she died. I feel it yet today. The same way that I became a hunted man by my own team at Light Strike Command's order after they realized what a cash cow they had in a newly discovered, "Harry Potter", in their ranks. The way I lost a second chance at happiness with someone I cared for because of that!"

Each reason that he calmly iterated drove a knife deeper and deeper into her heart.

"Harry, I…."

Harry shushed her. "I don't care why, Hermione. What's done is done. I don't need to know the reasons why. I don't **want** to know the reasons why. I guess you never loved me the same way I loved you. Maybe you never loved me at all, or maybe you just loved Ron more? I don't know, it doesn't really matter now. I'm alone again, thanks to you people. If you don't remember anything else, I'm sure you remember how I feel about that?" his voice was laced with bitterness.

Hermione nodded her head dejectedly as tears fell from her eyes. She knew in that moment that they had destroyed him not once, but now- twice.

Harry's eyes drifted back toward Arthur and Ron before returning to hers. She nearly gasped in alarm as his beautiful green eyes turned icy cold.

"Warn them to leave me in peace. I'll **kill** them if they trouble me again. It won't require more than the slightest effort on my part, Hermione. Voldemort was easy, they'll be much less so. If they leave me in peace, I'll do the same for them. It's my last act of kindness where the Weasley family is concerned. I don't owe them it, not after what they did, but I'll not be responsible for taking your children's father from them, if I can help it. I owe you that much, despite you breaking my heart. I loved you, 'Mione" He used her affectionate nickname for the first, and most likely last, time.

"Even if you didn't love me, I deserved better than to have to go on thinking you were dead from Bellatrix's curse. If I could have at least known you were alive, but didn't feel the same,.. at least then I could have gotten over you and moved on?"

Hermione was sobbing into her hands. His words were tearing her heart to shreds. She did love him. She still loved him, but,… she loved Ron too.

"Good bye,…'Mione"

What? No, … Harry w-wait!"

Too late, by the time she's pulled her tear wrought face from her hands, he was gone.


	9. Chapter 9:Moving Sale

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get back to, but I can promise that more will be coming soon and on a continuing and regular basis, along with "Half Alive/ Half Dead". Thanks for the patience. MK

**Chapter Nine: Moving Sale**

"Of all the ...?" Evan Black began to grumble to himself. It was the fifth, and increasingly irritating, time that the wards he'd placed on the south acreage were alerting him of yet another intrusion.

"I swear if it's another one of those damn roo's I'll make it my life's work to see them added to the endangered species list. There must be something out there that eats the damned things?" he groused as he apparated out to the pond area that was the focal point of his south ranch.

Unfortunately, it was a strategically placed bit off water that the local wildlife, (kangaroos), enjoyed using for a watering, bathing hole.

Being from England, originally, he had no experience with the creatures. Initially he found them quite amusing and to an extent- endearing.

Now, he found them a right pain in the arse. They bred like rabbits. They ate like a swarm of locusts and they crapped continually and wherever they pleased.

Despite having spent the last six months working on the small, seemingly innocuous, ranch whilst maintaining a low profile among the locals in the small town of Claymere near the Australian coast, he still maintained 'Constant Vigilance' as Moody had drummed into him as a teenager and Light Strike had expounded upon as an adult.

The former Harry Potter, Jamie Harrison and now; Evan Black took no foolish chances with his life and personal freedom, both were precious to him and neither were available for private or public consumption.

Evan kept a ready door to the twilight realm at his fingertips if he should need an avenue of escape at a moment's notice. He also wore a 9mm Glock at his right shoulder with a quick release holster and two spare fifteen round clips. He forewent carrying his custom made, goblin wrought katana over his left shoulder. It was one of a kind and the only piece of Light Strike he kept as a memento, though it was really more of a personal preference as he and the blade were well traveled, old acquaintances.

He could conjure a shadow blade quick enough if needed, but a nice multi-sheath of six throwing knives strapped to his right thigh brought a sense of security that was comforting.

It was perhaps overkill, carrying this amount of armaments, at all times, whilst relatively secure within a ward system like no other on the face of the earth, but then again-Constant Vigilance!

Evan apparated to the south range finding, instead of another kangaroo blundering about, an ambush, 'Taylor' made just for him.

Snict!

"Owe, damn it!" Evan cursed; tearing the drugged dart from his right chest.

He had at best tend to fifteen seconds before the scopolamine hit his system full force, probably even less given the large dose used and the fact he'd been hit so close to his heart.

_Ugh,.._ he could feel the drug already going to work.

There was only one possibility of escape, though while loath to expose his talents, he was even more loath to the idea of captivity, no matter by who or to what extent.

Evan opened a twilight portal and managed to heave himself through before falling unconscious.

He awoke in the twilight realm having no idea for how long he'd been incapacitated and although the drugs were still affecting him he was pissed, very pissed.

Concentrating, Evan burned the last vestiges of the drugs from his system using _cold fire_.

_Cold fire,_ was the life's blood of a Shadow Mage. It was the polar opposite of say- phoenix tears. It healed well enough, like phoenix tears did, but it healed by destroying the source of the corruption from within, rather than without.

His second order of business, now that he was fully 'combat' capable, was to assess or reconnaissance the situation he was in.

Choosing a vantage point some hundred meters above ground and no more than a peephole from the twilight realms into the area surrounding his ranch, Evan took a look see.

What he saw had him seeing red, literally. He was too far away and too high to make out faces, but not so far away as to not recognize field issue 'Light Strike' uniforms, one in particular was currently being worn by a husky male, whose facial features he couldn't quite make out from his vantage point, but whose red hair was a veritable thumb print within his memory.

"Of all the..." he grumbled to himself, choking back the torrent of profanity this revelation was want to elicit.

Some people just never got the hint. Either Ron Weasley was too thick to not take a hint or two full of the jealous need for payback, or worse; guilt ridden with the need to seek reconciliation, to know what was good for him.

Now, he really didn't want to have to kill Ron,.. he really didn't, but he had made a vow and he was definitely all about keeping his word.

_What to do? What to do?_

He didn't need long to ponder his options before an answer was thrust upon him when the invaders tripped his failsafe wards.

Evan watched helplessly as six months of work went up in flames-literally. The tripped wards ignited several high powered inflammatory spells that no countercharm could successfully deter before the inevitable occurred and his ranch turned to ash within mere minutes.

The intensity of the flames drove his would be kidnappers toward the supposed safety of the surrounding foliage-wrong!

In their haste to escape the inferno engulfing his home, they ran astray of several well placed trip wires that set off a barrage of concussive grenades that leveled the opposition in its entirety.

When the last of the extraction team finally stopped twitching and slumped into unconsciousness; Evan summoned a ground level portal and exited the twilight realm for what was left of his back yard.

The fire had burned itself out almost as quickly as it had ignited and left naught but smoking ruin of his once comfortable abode.

He watched in silent fury as the last wall stud collapsed, wafting away in a cloud of ash like so many of his dreams this past year.

He turned away from the wreckage with a last sigh of regret and resignation. He wondered if moving on got easier the more you were forced to do so, or if was really that you just became more numb after repeated exposure to life altering events and disappointment?

A quick check to make sure everyone was still breathing and in no immediate danger revealed two of the eight man team were in worse shape than expected. Evan activated their subcutaneous port-keys that would take them back to 'Light Strike' medical for immediate attention.

Knowing their arrival would only serve to alert the powers that be and thereby another, perhaps larger and more heavily armed teams would be dispatched; Evan gathered up an unconscious: Ronald Weasley deciding that the least he could do was see his once friend safely home.

The fact that Ron wore lieutenants' bars on his lapel grated no end as he'd arrived highly educated with advanced training, not to mention served with distinction for over two years before he'd received his commission.

The old adage that 'shite floats up' had never seemed more i**ron**ic. Briefly he'd pondered if that was the reason ironic was spelled with a 'Ron' in it?

He was about to open a portal when a groan to his left caught his attention. He recognized the groan, even if he didn't recognize the face it came from. He realized then that he didn't recognize any of his former comrades, save the newly enlisted: Ron.

A quick wandless wave of the hand and a mumbled 'finite' shed light on puzzling situation.

His own former lieutenant now sporting captain's bars; Warner was the owner of the groan. To Warner's right was - Anderson. To say that Evan was pleased would be an understatement as, after all, there was nothing like old comrades getting together to reminisce.

_Thoughtful that, them coming all this way to give me a "__**house warming**__"._

Deciding that the least he could do was make a show of appreciation for their efforts, Evan wandlessly stunned the two for expedience's sake, and levitated them along with him and Ron.

_And here I thought the day was gonna be a total loss? _With a dark chuckle, Evan summoned a twilight portal and was gone a good five minutes before a second 'Light Strike' team port keyed in as he'd predicted.

* * *

><p>Evan stretched from his labors and took a cleansing breath of the fresh salt air, appreciating the calm harmony of the waves slapping against the shoreline.<p>

A glance at his watch and quick calculation informed him that he had a window of five to ten minutes if he hoped to make his breakfast plans.

A quick wandless enervate and a few snaps of the fingers had his captive audience groggily trying to orient themselves.

"Gentlemen: when last we parted ways I left you amicably, for my part, but also with a warning that I would broke no further intrusion by 'Light Strike' into my private, civilian life...

You should have heeded my warning." He finished sternly.

"What the...?" Warner began worriedly glancing around, his head swiveling to and fro with increasing rapidity as his alarm grew.

"Where in the hell are we?" Anderson barked reaching for a nonexistent wand.

"It's gone, of course." Evan/Jamie/ Harry informed him patiently.

Warner's hand immediately went to the underside of his left upper arm.

"Deactivated" Evan added in a bored tone.

The two were currently naked, stripped of all armaments and survival gear, let alone escape port-keys. They were lying beneath the shade of a single palm tree,.. the _only_ palm tree on an island that was little more than twenty yards in diameter with other such minute islands stretching toward the horizon in increasingly distances apart.

With an amused expression at seeing his former comrades growing looks of alarm over the seriousness of their current situation, he informed them:

"How many times have I heard you two reminisce that should you actually live to enjoy a retirement from 'Light Strike ', you'd like to spend out your days on a tropical island somewhere? Sun, sand and surf,.. nothing to do but relax to the sounds of the ocean." He quoted.

With a chuckle at their horrified expressions he barked out.. "No need to thank me, guys. It's my pleasure to be able to do this for you!"

He wandlessly apparated away to the next patch of an island some fifty clicks to the south. His howls of laughter echoing back as he apparated to the next and the next till he disappeared in the distance.

* * *

><p>"Do you still like you eggs scrambled?" he asked from the stove, busily preparing enough food to feed an army.<p>

"Muvver- fuffin- baff-turd!" Ron swore through the gag stuffed in his mouth.

He could have just cast a silencing charm, but he always liked a little company when he cooked. Besides, gags were more personal and it was the little touches that meant so much in the greater scheme of things.

"Now that's no way to be?" Harry scolded waggling a finger at Ron who was struggling uselessly against his bonds.

"Here I'm making the family a nice brunch and while I don't expect thanks, the least you could do is try to be a little more congenial."

The filthy glare that Ron shot his way could have peeled the paint right off the wall with its vehemence, Harry just rolled his eyes, chuckling softly as he returned to his work.

"What in the world is going on ...in...here...H-Harry...?" Molly Weasley arrived in her kitchen hastily tying the sash on her dressing gown as she came through the door to find her youngest son all trussed up at the breakfast table and a much grown and changed-Harry Potter; cooking, breakfast for an army, at her stove.

Molly just stood gapping, initially dumb founded as she took in the sight of her once surrogate son, now fully grown.

_And how he's grown?_ He was now well over six feet. Tanned and well muscled, but in a trim athletic way that was built more for speed and endurance; though he looked strong enough to tear the pincers off a manticore.

His hair was raven black, his jaw strong and angular beneath eyes that were a vibrant green that belied the immense power contained within.

Molly's initial surprise quickly wore off to be replaced by a growing sense of alarm. Especially heightened by the warning looks Ron was shooting her as he redoubled his efforts to break free of his bonds only to slump wearily in defeat moments later.

Intent upon establishing some control of the situation, Molly searched the pockets of her robe looking for her...

"It's not there, Molly." Harry called over his shoulder, answering her questing hands.

Harry was using a spatula to transfer pancakes to a plate from the griddle as he informed her in a bland tone.

"All of your wands have been removed for safety's sake as I wouldn't want any accident's to occur before we've had a chance to catch up with one another."

Molly was about to ask the obvious when her youngest son cut her off, growling through his gag furiously.

"Youff-camph- fick- emm- upff- your- arseeee!" he banged his tied hands in frustration on the table top.

Molly gasped at his language, despite the gravity of the situation. Harry, for his part, seemed completely unconcerned, let alone insulted.

He turned toward the table with spatula in one hand and a plate of hot cakes in the other.

He was having, or supposedly was having, difficulty managing the transfer one handed so he thrust the hot spatula blade into Ron's hands asking politely.

"Hold this for a minute would you?"

**SISSSS**

"**Urggghhh!" **Ron shrieked in pain through his gag, flinging the hot implement away.

"Harry!" Molly shrieked in alarm over his sudden display of aggression.

"Er,.. I'm sorry. Here,.. let me help?" Harry made a show of mortification at his mistake and slapped a stick of butter into Ron's reddening hands.

"Urmmffh!" Ron whimpered.

"You don't put butter on a burn?" Molly barked out in concern.

"Really?" Harry asked innocently in surprise. "Why not?"

"Because it traps the heat in and actually makes.. it.. hurt.. worse... and you already knew that didn't you?" Molly returned haltingly in accusation, realizing he was playing them.

Ron groaned helplessly.

"Please lend me a wand so I can heal his burns?" She asked politely, extending her hand expectantly.

"No" Harry rebuffed coolly, but recanted at seeing her stricken expression. "But for your sake..." Harry snapped his finger off handily and the butter vanished whilst the burns on Ron's hands faded and the color returned to normal.

Ron sighed in relief, falling back into his chair.

Harry continued transferring food from the stove and oven to the table, oblivious to the looks of trepidation Molly was shooting his way as he suggested.

"Everything's pretty well ready, why don't you call the rest down to brunch. Oh, and.. I've made plenty for the whole family." He added pointedly, nodding toward the floo.

It wasn't so much a suggestion as a command and she reluctantly treated it as one, first calling Arthur down and then proceeding to contact the rest of her children.

The mood around the table was grave at best, barely contained panic a worst. Harry sipped his coffee, casually humming quietly, as he waited along with the rest of them for the last of the extended family to arrive.

The floo activated in the other room and Hermione's voice called out into the Burrow.

"In here, dear." Molly called back in resignation, rather than trying to warn her off as she'd attempted with Charlie and his wife.

Charlie was nursing a goose egg on his left forehead. His shattered wand still crackled piteously from the dust bin.

After that, Arthur strongly suggested that she follow Harry's directions to the letter. He hadn't actually given any direction, merely vague suggestions, but the warning glances from Arthur and also, a now more subdued; Ron, told everyone to forego any rash actions.

Calm and cooperative was the order of business this morning.

Hermione entered the room with a toddler of a daughter on her right hip,( the very image of her mother), and a surly red haired adolescent that was following in obvious protest, having no appreciation for his morning plans, at home, being disrupted.

Hermione's inquisitive eyes scanned the room quickly, noting the pensive, near panicked expression on many faces, mixed with anger, by some, and even elated by the twins' and their significant other's faces.

He questioning eyes quickly found the source of everyone's discomfort, well, except the twins along with Alicia, Katie and even Fleur looked well pleased.

"Harry...!" Hermione gasped in surprise.

Harry who?" Her son asked suspiciously, peering around his mother's side.

"Harry Potter" he answered the child with a wry chuckle.

"No shite?" The boy nearly crowed, causing his mother and grandmother to gasp in outrage at his language and the twins to snort their appreciation, earning glares, of support for the female contingent, from their partners.

"I shite you not." Harry returned with a laugh, redirecting the boy's impending tongue lashing to himself by expanding on the original offending word's use.

The admonition on Hermione and Molly's lips died when they considered the source of the offence.

"Is it really him, mum?" The boy asked in wide eyed hopeful wonder.

His mother nodded, not taking her eyes from Harry's direction as she did so.

"So cool!" the boy cheered appreciatively whilst goggling at Harry, as he stepped more fully into view.

Harry quirked his head to the side as he considered out loud. "Odd that? That's exactly the reception I got... **cool**. Though your dad treated me to a rather **warm** reception this morning." He drawled the 'warm' pointedly.

Hermione's eyes shifted toward her husband. At first they went wide in surprise when she noticed the uniform he was wearing, only to narrow to slits as she hissed accusingly...

"What did you do?"

Ron squirmed under her scrutiny, but was surprisingly rescued by Harry suggesting they all eat as the warming charms wouldn't last forever and afterward they could "Catch up with one another".

At first tentative, many found their appetites and ate with gusto relishing what they assumed was their last meal. Many commented on the quality and expressed their appreciation.

The only one who didn't appear to have an appetite was a rather pale and stricken faced Ron who was squirming uncomfortably next to his wife who shot him a death glare anytime their eyes met, usually followed by a yelp of painful surprise following a strange muffled **thump** from under the dining table.

The conversation around the table was not the usual boisterous carefree type that had been a trademark of the Burrow. Instead there was a great deal more conversation centering on the weather than usual. Finally, blessedly, someone brought up quidditch.

Ron and Hermione's son; Arthur, plucked up the courage to ask Harry what team or teams he followed.

With another wry smile he quickly answered. "Anyone but the cannons for starters." He chuckled at that the way Ron winced at that.

"I used to favor the Harpies, but they fell out of favor with me about nine years or so ago when they took on a few , er,.. _questionable players_?" Again, he expressed pointedly, to which a completely subdued, Ginny unceremoniously dropped her fork. Ginny played for the Harpies for the past nine years and obviously, he knew it.

Ginny was radiant, if he was truthful with himself. He was expecting a more mature figure after a child or two, but obviously, she and her former spouse had not yet explored parenthood.

Not surprising that as Ginny and Draco were too shallow to care about anyone but themselves so children would have been out of the question.

The boy laughed, mocking his aunt at that, which delighted Harry no end.

Once everyone appeared fed and watered. Harry _suggested_ that Ginny take the children outside for a bit of fresh air whilst the _adults _in the room had a grown up conversation.

Ginny scowled at that, but after a stern glare from her father, she collected Hermione's youngest and shooed Fleur and Bill's daughter along with little Arthur out the door to the garden.

Before he left, the boy plucked up the nerve to ask if .. "Can I get your autograph before you go?"

Harry snorted at that, nearly choking on his coffee. Once settled, he shifted his gaze toward a sullen faced Ron and an embarrassed, but hopeful Hermione, before agreeing to the request, promising he'd seek the boy out once the adults finished their discussion.

Once the children, including Ginny, had left, Harry poured himself another cup of coffee and waited expectantly for the first of many questions.

"How did you get in here?" was the first, from a curiously suspicious Bill.

"Easily" he responded cheekily, though added. "The wards are some of the best I've ever encountered, but they would be useless against someone like me." He both complimented and warned in one statement, adding. "Your work I presume?"

Bill nodded, with reluctant appreciation at that as Harry seemed genuinely impressed with the ward system.

It was no secret amongst the group that Harry was, or had been, a commander within 'Light Strike' as undoubtedly either their father, or more properly; Ron had informed them of this so no one belabored that point, just accepted it warily.

Light Strike's reputation was without peer, and a 'commander' was the considered the best of the best.

George raised his hand, nearly bouncing in his seat as he eagerly anticipated being called upon.

Harry quirked an eyebrow and nodded for him to continue.

"So, how ya been, Harry?" George chortled, sincerely curious, and obviously glad to see him.

"I'd like to claim "fine"," he made quotation marks in the air at that. "but, I was treated to a _fire sale_ at home this morning and now am forced to seek alternative living arrangements."

"Fire sale!" Hermione picked up on the vague byplay more rapidly than even he'd thought she would. She rounded on her cringing husband.

"What did you do? What are you wearing? We have children, Ronald!" she reminded him. "Isn't it already bad enough being an auror and risking our family's future in so dangerous an occupation? Please, tell me you haven't gone and enlisted in "Light Strike"?" she nearly screamed in outrage.

With a dark chuckle, Harry added. "Yes, Ronald,... do tell why you're sitting here in a 'light strike' field issue uniform and just what exactly you did do this morning?" Harry drawled expectantly.

Ron fidgeted and stammered under the scrutiny of his entire family, but managed to find his Gryffindor courage and explain that..

"They enlisted me about five months ago. The money's terrific and the benefits even more so. It's a chance to be among the best in the world and do things that really make a difference. Not on a local, minute detail, but on a world wide scale. I couldn't turn it down, 'Mione." He pleaded. "Not a chance like this. I was going to talk to you about it if they offered me a contract once my probationary status was over. But,.. I doubt that'll ever happen now?" he lamented.

Hermione's eyes narrowed at that. "Why,.. what happened?" she scathed with barely suppressed fury.

Ron shrugged, pleading. "It wasn't my fault. One of the others, probably Warner,.. he must've tripped a failsafe ward or something?"

"A failsafe ward?" Bill questioned in interest, entering the conversation as his professional curiosity got the better of him.

Ron nodded. "The place went up like a tinder box. We barely got out with our lives!" he sought his wife's sympathy with that alarming reservation, but found her anything but sympathetic as she enquired coolly.

"What place went up like a tinder box, Ronald?" Ron's face fell at that.

He looked like he wanted to crawl under the table when Harry clarified... "My place."

Many startled at that. Many more gasped in dread and still others groaned worriedly over what might happen when one started trouble with a "Light Strike" commander. Light Strike had acquired a well earned reputation of not being a _forgiving_ organization.

You harm them and they visited said harm back upon you a hundredfold. No apologies. No appeals. It was simple and direct; harsh and unrelenting vengeance until "Light Strike' felt they'd achieved their pound of flesh which was usually more like _ten pounds_ or more.

Harry finished the explanation, detailing what happened. "He and his cohorts entered my property covertly and without any warning attacked my person via a barrage of tranquilizing darts. When they failed to capture me, or more properly- kidnap me, they then took it upon themselves to ransack my private dwelling which resulted in said dwelling going up in flames, leaving me homeless with naught but the clothes on my back". He nearly mewled that last, playing on the room's sympathies.

His pleas had the desired effect as Hermione, Molly, Fleur and many others gasped in outraged whilst several of his brothers looked murderous and his father- disappointed,... extremely so.

Ron fought off his initial alarm and rounded angrily on Harry. "Why don't you tell them the whole story, huh? You're a wanted man, Potter." He sneered in contempt.

Harry started at that, asking in feigned surprise. "Really, and just what crime am I wanted for? "

Ron struggled helplessly, but had no idea himself, just that they were ordered to bring Harry in for questioning, evaluation and reassignment, and said so, rather lamely in his own defense.

Harry snorted at that. "Which means: I'm to be incarcerated and brain washed into permanent enlistment so that "Light Strike" can exploit the image of the 'boy who lived' and the 'conqueror of Voldemort' to enter the European theatre. They want to use me, both my image and services, to get in on the big money over here. They had a taste of the bounty you put on Voldie and they found it **very **palatable. My term of contractual service had expired and I refused reenlistment under those grounds and effectively separated myself, **legally so**, from 'Light Strike'. The only trouble is that 'Light Strike' doesn't like, nor accepts, that decision; **legal** or not. In short, people; Light Strike has gone mercenary and I'm either with them, or.. I'm with them. They will accept no other outcome other than my unending indentured servitude."

"But that's... they can't...?" Charlie stammered in outraged denial.

"They could." His father disagreed, adding... "And easily so. 'Light Strike' is extremely powerful and well connected the world over. They could literally make anything happen and find a plausible excuse for it after the fact. One man,... even one particularly powerful and resourceful man wouldn't stand a chance against them. Frankly, I can't fathom how you've managed to elude them this long?" He speculated, eyeing Harry appreciatively.

"I have my ways." Was all he offered by way of an explanation, which was none.

Arthur nodded his acceptance regardless with a great deal of respect for his person in that simple gesture.

"I'm profoundly sorry, Harry. Truly I am. I'd like to claim that had I known I would have never sought out Light Strike's assistance, but I can't. Voldemort had us all but beat and like it or no, we needed you and you delivered. What I can and do claim all responsibility for is the fact that I made a promise to leave you anonymously unmolested, and do to the unthinking actions of my own son, I've failed in that promise. As Ronald is both my son and my occupational responsibility I offer you my life in payment of that debt, though I ask that you spare my family from incurring your vengeance, deserved or not."

His family erupted in fear and outrage at that, but Arthur shouted them down with a single word.

"**Silence!"**

Once calmed to the point of tears and anxious looks between Arthur's resignation and Harry's unread ably cool and detached face, Arthur pleaded a last. "Please, Harry,... Please don't hurt my family, however much we may deserve it?"

After a lengthy pause, Harry addressed Mr. Weasley, though he was speaking to the entire room as well.

"I had every intention of coming here today to do exactly that... kill you all." He stated remorselessly.

Before he continued, Hermione interrupted, despite the warning hiss from her father in-law.

"How could you? How could you even think such an abominable thing, let alone say it out loud?" she screeched in alarm and disgust.

Harry held her gaze for a long moment scrutinizing her, judging her before deciding she was deserving of an explanation.

"You have not gone where I have gone, nor seen what I have seen. You don't know what it is to leave loose ends. Loose ends have a way of biting you in the end one day and today I got bit, but good, by just such. When you make an agreement, however distasteful, it should be kept and honored to the letter, lest you lose all respect and subsequent power. Once that happens, your life is no longer your own as others will seek to take it from you. Today, I narrowly avoided being kidnapped at the price of my home being utterly destroyed and now I am that much more vulnerable, all because I chose to spare you all once already. Had I been captured I would be suffering torture at this very moment. Were that happening, I can assure you, I would consider your lives quite inconsequential at that point." There was such power and dread conviction in his words that it was staggering in its implications and the room gapped in shock trying to absorb the full measure of his words and a life that was forced to have to live as such just to have any semblance of a life.

All in the room that in one form or another, to one extent or another; they we're all guilty of influencing his life to this point, to have to live under these conditions.

In a moment of compassion, he addressed Ron, though every fiber of his being was screaming to let the git reap what he'd sown.

"Is it worth it, Ron?" He asked his once friend softly. "Is this what you want for your family? You have everything that I once wanted for myself more than anything else in the entire world. You have family and friends and a loving and beautiful wife."

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, but he continued oblivious as he outlined all that Ron was unthinkingly throwing away.

"You have children of your own and a home with them. You have an occupation that makes a good living and stands you in good stead within the community, not to mention garners respect and appreciation. Is this what you would throw away to become no more than a mercenary? Will your jealously at last be sated once you've become all that I am: hunted, friendless,.. anonymous? Do you think you will enjoy having to fight to be free, to have to kill to survive? Jealousy is an ugly thing, envy however...? I envy all that you have and are, Ron Weasley. For ten long years I strived to make a place for myself in the world to build friendships and have some semblance of peace and security. It took me ten years to get to the point where I could even consider having what you have and taking the chance to have and give love. Ten years it took... and in ten days it was all gone. Jealousy, greed,.. there's a reason they're called the deadliest of sins for they lead to the destruction of all one holds dear and the ruination of one's soul.

Is this what you want, Ron? Do you want to keep 'Mione up nights worrying and waiting for you to return from some vile mission that will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life, however long that might be if you choose to stay in Light Strike? Your family will share in the risk. The people we hunt will use any and all means to strike back or to manipulate you. Will you blindly follow unjust orders that destroy a man's home? To hunt and harry him until he's forced to fight back like the cornered animal that you've made him through your unthinking actions? Is this what you truly want, Ron?"

The women in the room were sniffling and snuffling into their significant other's shoulders, those that had already fled the room in tears and were now being consoled elsewhere.

Molly for her part wanted to throw herself at his feet and beg forgiveness for what they done to him. She wanted to gather him up in one of her 'bone crushing' hugs and never let him go. She cried even more knowing that it could never now be. Her own jealousy and greed had seen to that long ago.

Ron broke down into tears of regret and dismay, begging his wife's forgiveness.

Hermione had gathered him up in her arms, kissing and cooing reassuringly to him whilst she mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Harry.

The lost, indifferent look on his face clearly stated that he hadn't done it for her, but for Ron, and maybe a little for himself as well. She was merely a point of reference, an example he'd used for Ron. She was as dead to him as he once believed her to be.

The knowledge crushed her and she found herself clinging to Ron in the desperate knowledge of all that she too had thrown away. Her tears mingled with his, now more for herself than for her husband.

Harry placed his mug in the sink and waved his hand, instantly clearing the table and setting the dishes to wash before he left, which he quietly did whilst everyone was preoccupied with their own guilt and remorse. It was both far more and far less than what he'd originally planned to do here today, but all in all, it was an acceptable , even a gratifying alternative to killing the lot.

Not that he'd really ever had any intention of doing that in the first place. Some of the reputations that Light Strike fostered were highly motivating if one truly feared the consequences that elicited said reputation.

Besides, he'd already had a what.. an epiphany? He was not going to deprive any of those that had wronged him of their lives, just their livelihood.

To that extent... it was time he came home.


	10. Chapter 10: Fire Sale

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

A/N: Sorry this took so long everyone. I had computer issues that are finally resolved this morning. The next chapter is nearly done so I'll be able to post that soon as well. MK

**Chapter Ten: Fire Sale**

_Move Harry Move!_

I only left the Weasley home five minutes ago and it already feels like I'm hours behind. It's just gone 10am here which means it 4am east coast time and 1am west coast.

Its three hours since I departed my once, albeit briefly, home on the Australian coast. I figure the second Light Strike team that was undoubtedly sent to my ruined home will be there a minimum of two hours sifting through the rubble looking for clues to my whereabouts before reporting in, which they did about one hour ago. That done, they will have been given additional orders and , following standard operating procedures, they would spend another one to two hours re-canvassing the area for clues before setting trip wards and booby traps for my potential, if unlikely, return and then departing for Light Strike command for debriefing.

At best, they would need to make four port-key jumps to traverse the distance back from Australia to the U.S. West coast.

Let's see,.. that gives me approximately five hours before an additional strike team is in house.

I figure there's at least one team in the field. One-eight man team is in house at all times with an additional round the clock guard of a minimum of twelve well trained operatives patrolling the interior and another twenty on the grounds.

If I plan this right and hit the joint during the night shift; that'll leave approximately six command level personal manning the command council.

A minimum total of forty-six Light Strike personal on duty

That leaves an additional two-eight man teams unaccounted for that could be either in house, in the field, on leave and/or possibly within interception range in case of emergency.

Which is exactly what I intend to give them- an emergency!

I've got four hours, four hours and forty-eight minimum iin the opposition. The extra assault team returning from Australia isn't a major concern in and of itself, but it's an unknown variable that I would rather not have to account for. That particular team will be heavily armored, armed and ready for intense combat. They might be initially surprised, or I might, depending upon their point of arrival.

I'd rather not take the chance, so I figure I've got four and a half hours between now and time of withdrawal from engagement.

Now normally I'd say retreat, but in this case, not so much.

I'm gonna take it to them, but good.

Nobody but nobody pulls this shite with me and gets away with it, not even Light Strike.

They obviously want to play rough so I feel no compunction over returning like for like.

I make a quick apparition to one of my many shelters hidden throughout the world. This particular one is perhaps not as secure as some others as there are two other people who now of its location.

I've kept it for purely personal reasons, although I made some, ah,.. _modest updates_.

I'm currently standing on a hill outside Hogsmeade in front of an apparent rock outcropping. I place my hand on a jagged edge more roughly that prudent, cutting my hand superficially in the process. The second my blood makes contact the rocky wall glows blue. I recite: "Marauder's Rule" and the rocks pull themselves aside revealing a passage way into the cave that Sirius once used to hide in during my fourth year when he was keeping tabs on me during the whole Tri-Wizard's Tournament fiasco.

The cave is anything but, as I've indicated; I made some updates. Who knew all it took was galleons into the right hands and viola; 'bachelor pad for the paranoid'.

There's a built in video security system. A warding system that could and probably does surpass Hogwarts and last, but certainly not least, are my own personal touches that are guaranteed to deter any unauthorized approach to my private quarters.

A quick shower and three hour nap later and I'm ready to roll.

_Hmmm, what to wear, what to wear? _I'm standing in a rather smallish, but well stocked walk-in closet trying to decide on what one wears to storm one's former place of employment other than a postal uniform.

Let's see,.. I've got white-grey winter khaki, green jungle khaki, tan/brown desert khaki and the ever popular and always stylish- all black.

I'm feeling stylish so all black it is.

Now for the accessories:

9mm glock and right shoulder holster with three extra clips- check.

Sheath of ten throwing knives secured in velcro leg holster- check

Black pommel and bladed katana and scabbard over right shoulder- check

Dagger in left boot sheath- check.

Munitions belt with assorted flash grenades, emergency medical supplies, port keys and a few other surprises including Peruvian darkness powder- _love those twin Weasley geniuses._

_Speaking of,... I wonder if they could use a creative consultant with a lot of free time suddenly on his hands?_

A quick browse of the cool pantry, where I store a variety of field rations, to score some power bars and I'm off for adventure in beautifully sunny Southern California, USA.

Two _twilight _jumps later and I'm a half a click out from the lead installation of Light Strike. By the looks of things, even from this distance, I'd say they were expecting company of the uninvited variety. There's high lumen fluorescents covering the entire installation and the joint's glowing like a damned carnival, lighting up the surrounding countryside for hundreds of meters in every direction.

Am I becoming predictable?

Does it matter?

Probably, but I hate to disappoint when they've obviously gone to so much trouble.

Obviously someone's ferreted out my little secret and the whole organization's trying to nullify the advantage by eliminating any and all shadowed areas.

I'm guessing the inside of the facility is as bright as the surface of the sun, closets and all.

Nice touch that, except for two things: The first such is that I brought along Peruvian darkness powder- for just such an occasion.

A lot of Peruvian darkness powder.

The second is that I don't need to twilight jump to enter high security areas, I just prefer it. I'm rather gifted, magically speaking, and have sufficient power at my disposal to blast through just about any wards.

I'm guessing they know that, and have planned accordingly. In other words, they want me to try and breach the facility because the whole place is a trap. Which is why they haven't hidden the installation and its sister facilities under a fidelius charm.

I suppose I could just eliminate the protective lighting covering the facility, but that would take far too long and, again, I suspect they know that.

Just as I suspect that they've already accounted for Peruvian powder. Most likely everyone inside is wearing field issue visors, currently shaded to ward off the glare from the bright lights, though they can switch to infrared at a spoken word or the touch of a wand if the lights go out.

The smart thing to do would be to go home and wait them out. They'll drive themselves crazy waiting and expecting an attack that never comes, especially if I show up now and again and surreptitiously probe the wards. Not a lot, just a little to put them on constant alert.

It sounds a bit cruel, playing mind games like that.

Besides, I like the honest, up front approach. Everyone knows Jamie Harrison is a people person.

Evan Black, however, is a tad bitter and Harry Potter,.. well, let's not even go there.

A quick glance at my watch shows I've got at best about ten minutes to decide what, if anything, I'm going to do.

No matter what, I'm glad Jeff's not in there. My first stop was to scan the Taylor residence , with my own field visors, to make sure everyone was accounted for. I'd planned to make a stop at my old digs after to check on Julia's welfare, but that point was mute as she was at her parent's home in her own room,... and by the reading of the heat signatures: with company.

I guess I'm not at unforgettable as I thought, or _hoped_ I was.

I don't know what I expected given how I left and especially as it was with the intention to never return. The last thing I should be is jealous, given my track record, but I am.

Jeff's out of it, that's all that should matter.

I clear my mind, forgoing "what ifs" to concentrate on the task at hand which is easier said than done, as the jealous feelings are still there on the periphery.

_Oh, the hell with it._

With a feral grin of delighted expectation I decide on the direct approach and twilight jump to the edge of the facility's wards.

_Now what?_

I know what... a little 'ACDC' is in order. I always fight better to a good hard-rock beat. I'm thinking for first phase of this little fiasco "Hell's Bells" should play out nicely.

I focus and with a quick snap of my fingers and an ominous gonging sounds in the distance.

_Wait for it..._

The guitar intro starts and so do I. First things first; I use my modest elemental talents to summon a gentle breeze which I direct in a circuitous route around the perimeter of the installation.

I gradually increase the force of the wind in relation to the growing timber of the background music. It takes a great deal of concentration, but I'm all about the details and I like to put on a good show.

The fans, after all, make us what we are, and I've a devoted fan in Light Strike as they can't seem to leave me alone. I find it beholden of me to provide them a good return on their investment.

The winds are howling along now at near hurricane intensity and I can tell by the sound of the warning claxons ringing out that Light Strike's not thinking this a natural occurrence.

ACDC's "Hell's Bells" is reaching its crescendo, so it's time for phase two. I conjure playground sized foam rubber balls and throw them into the wind storm. The whole effect reminds me of one of those tornado lamps that were popular a few years back.

_This is it, the song's climax...NOW!_

I abandon my control of the wind funnel and let nature take its course.

_HOLY SHITE!_

Now I know what it's like to live inside a pachinko machine. The foam balls are ricocheting all over hell, (like I planned they would), taking out lights and guards alike, unfortunately, yours truly got caught in the crossfire.

_Now normally one would think a foam ball hit me- big whoop, however, a foam ball going sixty to seventy miles per hour is gonna leave a mark._

_Let's just say that while in pain, I consider myself lucky that the ball hit the meat of my upper thigh and not a few inches to the right._

I took out the lights, which is good, but the guard tower on the north end is still intact which means there are two guards who are still fully operational.

I shadow step onto the cat walk of the tower and knock politely. Now, while I'm here to get some payback and cause as much damage and mayhem as is humanly or even inhumanly possible._. there's no reason to be rude about it._

_Which is a nice way to say that they can't stop me and I want to rub their noses in it._

No one answers so I'm betting they're calling for back up whilst taking flanking positions to either side of the door, waiting for me to make my move.

I summon a twilight portal, step in, turn back and knock a second, more insistent time, before closing the portal and reopening another one inside the tower.

_Yep, standard flanking positions alright._

The guard on the left gets curious, which I can't blame him for as I would be to if the situation was reversed.

Timing is everything so when the guard takes a peek, I strike.

_There's a reason they say 'curiosity killed the cat'. _Just as the guard sticks his head through the door I hit him with a full out banisher to his posterior that sends the man over the rail into a free fall.

**"Aiyeeee!"**

_ I wonder if he landed on his feet like cats supposedly do? I'm guessing by the __**thud,**__ I absently note from below, probably not._

_I could have incapacitated his comrade with a quick stunner, but what's the fun in that? _

The second guard is turning my way as I've vacated the portal which I snap shut on his extending wand, snapping it cleaning in half when the portal closes. The man's gapping stupidly at his pathetically sparking and sputtering wand, as I drive my elbow into his temple.

The poor sod rebounds off the wall and slumps to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. A quick wandless _incarcerous_ and _silencio_ and I think my work here is finished- on to bigger and better things.

"Base to tower two- report" The com crackles ominously. I'm guessing I was right in that these two managed to place a call for reinforcements.

With an evil grin I decide to offer a bit of assistance.

"B-Base",...static crackle..." Base.. this is t-two..." hiss sputter... "under heavy fire... multiple invaders dressed as guards... b-base..." crackle ...

I let the com go ominously dead._ I figure I've got roughly two minutes give or take a half, before company comes a callin._

I grab up the poor sod at my feet and twilight him to the ground where I find his comrade didn't 'land on his feet'. I drag the two behind a supply bunker and conjure a blanket for them.. it gets cold at night. A quick twilight jump back and I wandlessly fill the tower with about a thousand gallons of sea water I've conjured. That, and a nice big squid.

_I'm all about the little touches._

I quick twilight jump and I'm standing on the west annex, which should afford me a good vantage point for enjoying the show.

_Here they come. _Six heavily armed guards in standard two by two flanking formation are approaching the tower from three different directions.

Two apparate to the cat walk while two more silently climb the ladder and the other two remain at the base scanning the surrounding perimeter_._

_One brave soul calls out for my, er,.. _"surrender",_ and I must say,.. I'm rather disappointed that they're giving me the benefit of the doubt and not calling for me by name._

With a nod to his companions, two take flanking positions to either side of the tower door, another the rear and the last fool brings his wand to bear and opens the door.

Whoosh

**"Aiyeee!"**

**Thud**

_It definitely must be a cat thing as that guy didn't even come close to landing on his feet, course the thousand gallons of water didn't help his orientation any._

**"Urghhh!"** Guard two got ripped of his feet and into the guard tower, where by the sound of things.. he's occupied.

**"What the f...!**_**"** _

Guard three exclaims just before a snake like appendage lashes out and sends him sprawling over the rail where he unceremoniously lands on and crumples guard five_._

Guard four, alerted by the screams of guard two, enters the tower blindly firing off stunners. By the sudden absence of screams from guard two_, I'd say he's managed to hit the squid's dinner. _By the inhuman howls of rage,.._ I'd say the squid is none too fond of the interruption._

By the fresh pleas of terrified alarm, I'd say that four has now taken two's place on the menu_._

The sixth and final guard on the ground is hurriedly alerting command and requesting additional reinforcements.

_I wonder if I should just sit here and watch the show as by now I've effectively halved the opposition's numbers?_

_Hmmm,..nah. _

I have a whole agenda that I've been mulling over for the past six months for just such an occasion and while Ron Weasley's blundering into the equation wasn't an intangible that I'd considered; I can't say it doesn't add an element of interest in the overall scheme of things.

But, first things first. I've got to entice 'Light Stirke' into taking a more substantial interest in yours truly before I can exploit the British end.

Oh, they've shown an acute interest I grant you, but what I want is an obsession factor. I want them to think of nothing, but Jamie Harrison 24/7_. _

Yes, I said Jamie Harrison. I've decided I like the name and intend to stick with it as It'll lessen the confusion.. _yeah, right?_

_I wonder if their actually stupid enough to send out another detail to reinforce the fools they originally sent out?_

I don't wonder what that is that's slithering down the tower supports like some strange undulating spider.

_I wonder if the sixth guard is aware he's about to be.._

**"Aiyeeee!"**

_Nope, he isn't._

Right on time, the cavalry arrives. I notice that either base is running low on sacrificial idiots or they want to keep all their idiots close to hand as; they only sent two more guards.

The two guards, or should I say: idiots, immediately assess the situation and decide to launch a barrage of cutters into my squishy friend.

Now losing a pair of appendages would surely hamper you or me, but apparently it only serves to piss off the squid.

**"Arghhh!"**

**"Nooooo,...Mommyyyyy!"**

_Mommy? _Normally I'd say – what a wuss, but given the fact that a giant squid is flaying the man alive and sucking up tatters of flesh like it was spaghetti . .. I have to give him the "mommy" plea as I'm not sure I'd do any better.

_Whoa,.. what's keeping that thing going? I mean,.. shouldn't the damned squid be suffocating by now what with being out of water and all?_

Uh-Oh... apparently the squid's out of playmates and has taken an interest in yours truly as he's squishing this way!

I suppose I could just vanish the conjured monstrosity, but for that I'd need to get a good clean shot at it and the way it's bobbing and slithering about I don't think that's gonna happen. It's a shame to waste it as it's proven a valuable, if unwilling ally.

I have an epiphany of the devious sort. This is gonna take a bit of power to pull off, but talk about a first class diversion.

Drawing on the last dregs of my elemental abilities I encase the squid in a water sphere and send it spinning like whirling dervish thinking a little disorientation should stir the pot nicely.

I conjure a large two sided twilight portal in the side of the west annex and send about two thousand gallons of fun into the complex below.

Now,.. I swear,.. I never even considered the difference between salt water and fresh water when I started this little experiment. Did you know that fresh water was like battery acid to sea creatures?

I didn't.

All I wanted was a little chaotic diversion. What I got was clash of the titans!

_The screams, the screams.. tis music to the ears._

_Who said that? I swear I read that somewhere? _

Anyway,.. the whole installation is rumbling below me as screams of terror and bellows of outrage echo out into the night. The light of wand fire comes bursting through the windows spraying glass across the grounds.

My work here is finished,.. well not here, here, but just at this .. oh, never mind.

I twilight step to the south end where I know there's undoubtedly a nice reception planned for my arrival.

I figure at best the opposition has about twelve-twenty operatives inside. They'll be most prominently stationed at the armory and command council- I think.

What I'm counting on is that the hanger bay is most likely deserted as the hanger doors are secured and let's face it.. you can't take off with the hanger doors secured-_ right?_

_Right,.. _you can't take off, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy a pleasant little foray in the hanger bay with a fully armed harrier_._

_I love harriers._

Though I rarely get the opportunity; I am a fully trained and certified pilot. I twilight into the hanger bay and yes!

_Come to papa, you eight million dollar beauty._

Ten minutes, and several thousand rounds from the harriers twin fifty cal. guns, later and I'm pretty sure that "Light Strike" is currently aware of my present location.

I should be leaving as I'm sure they're mounting a counter offensive. It seems a shame to leave the harrier though, what with the hanger doors secured and all?

_Jamie,...you idiot! _I berate myself_._

Two side-winder missiles later and viola, instant opening into the wide blue yonder!

_I can't believe it,.. _not that I'm stealing their plane with the intent to do worse mayhem then I have already perpetrated_? _

No,.. what I can't believe is that I'm actually humming the Air Force's theme song as I 'm hovering the harrier up to a safe altitude to engage the turbines forward thrust.

_Woo-HOO! What a beautiful piece of machinery. _I'm sorry, but I have to keep it.

Just so there's no hard feelings, I decide they can keep armaments, after all, I am a civilian and as such am not authorized for the handling of dangerous weaponry.

Which is a nice way to say that: I strafe the hell out of "Light Strike". I'm careful to avoid endangering the human population, so I only target unmanned areas of the facility and fire off the rest of the Harriers missiles into the pacific.

_Whoa,.. Judging by the secondary damage due to fires and the like,.. I'd say the million galleons they made on the Voldemort bounty is going to dwindle rapidly in repair costs._

I was about to take my new ride for a nice moonlit drive home when the com crackles to life and some bugger, ( I think it's that toss pot- Admiral Crenshaw), is demanding the cessation of all hostilities and the return of their aircraft_._

_Can you believe that?_

Not only does he have the audacity to insinuate I'm hostile, but then he outright accuses me of stealing!

_You want your plane back- FINE!_

_After all, I'm no thief. _I set the plane down on top of the east reception area.

_Now I swear_,.. it totally slipped my mind that the reception hall was covered in a sparkling glass sky light dome.

Besides that; who knew it wouldn't support the weight of the harrier?

_Sheesh, I could've been killed if I hadn't barely escaped into a twilight portal before the whole thing caved in beneath me!_

As I'm all out of corners to occupy my attention, I decide it's time to pay the command council a little visit. I twilight step into a bathroom off the main hall_._

By the blazing fluorescents overhead I see my original assumption is correct... they've been expecting me and my particular gifts have been taken into account.

_Damn that's bright! I don my field visor, wishing I'd thought to do so before I arrived._

I'd like to shoot a quick low level reductor into the light just to rid myself of the spots dancing before my eyes, but I'm guessing this will give my position away, not that I haven't most like tripped a proximity ward already.

By the lack of sound outside and the heat signatures I'm picking up on my heavily shaded visor I'd say that one of the two possible field teams are flanking my position, probably Beta as the lead moves like Captain Edwin Therin_._

_Now, Therin's a good bloke if a bit overzealous._

With that in mind I decide to go easy on Beta. I've got nothing against the operatives, just command and it's questionable policies concerning my life and livelihood.

First I do a nifty bit of wandless transfiguration, transforming the porcelain walls into stainless steel- it's more durable you know.

Next, I decide to advertise my presence and shoot a reductor into the lights overhead

No sooner does the bathroom go dark then I side step into a twilight portal faster than I've ever done so before, and it's a good thing as the portal's just snapping shut as a magnesium grenade goes off and the room goes bright white!

_I wonder if they've gone in hot as I suspect they would what with Therin in command._

I twilight step into the heavily lighted hall outside the bathroom.

_Yup, they went in firing alright._

Now, porcelain is great for bathrooms because it's so easy to clean and sparkles after. Stainless steel likewise, only it is additionally excellent for deflecting wand fire. In this case it's excellent for ricocheting wand fire.

They left an attractive female, by the name of Patterson, I believe, guarding the door. I was gonna use the butt of my gun across the head, but seeing as it's a lady; a quick strike to the nerve plexus at the base of the skull renders her blissfully numb for the time being.

As I can't have her littering the hallway and causing obstruction, I heave her into the bathroom, narrowly avoiding the brown light of a seriously over charged expulsion hex.

_These guys are gonna get somebody hurt yet. _

Erring on the side of safety, I seal the door with what I call a Stonehenge Ward. Like its namesake; it's silent and immovable with no explanation, other than it just is ,... but how to get rid of it?

Let's just say that the gits inside should be glad they're in a bathroom, because it's gonna be awhile before they figure a way out of there.

That done, I'm off to the command center.

Oh,.. I almost forgot, a little fighting music. Now, originally I'd thought ACDC's "Thunder" was the way to go, but in light of Light Strike's new mercenary attitude, I'm thinking "Money Talks". It's got that same hard beat, but its lyrics ironically fit the situation.

I know things are gonna get 'harry', (pardon the pun), from here on out, so I draw my katana as I cast a quick silencing spell over my boots.

I'm at the intersection leading to the circular command center and notice first and foremost that it's very quiet, too quiet.

Borrowing a bit from the mythological story of medusa, I slip my katana blade across the hallway and _whoa...?_

It appears that Gamma team is lying in wait with a special greeting for yours truly. That fact is poignantly driven home by the well aimed reductor hex that rips my sword out of my hand, breaking my hand in the process.

_Shite that hurt!_

As my sword clangs ominously down the hall, Jenson Falmouth calls out to yours truly.

I've got a great deal of respect for Jenson, I even considered dating her once upon a time but she'd a bit too much of a tomboy for my taste.

Hell of a sword arm though which is something you don't see on a lot of ladies, but is a definite asset in my line of work.

" Jamie...?"

I'm mulling over whether or not I should answer as I can tell by her questioning tone that she'd not a hundred percent sure just who she's dealing with.

"Jamie... Please answer me?" she comes back uncertainly and I realize this is a more painful encounter for her, than an uncertainty over my identity.

She knows it's me.

_What the hell,.. _I wasn't planning on remaining incognito.

"Damn it, Jenson. That's no way to treat Goblin steal!" I call back lamenting my undoubtedly ruined blade.

I hear an appreciative snort at that. "Sorry about that."

"Sure you are." I grumble sarcastically. "Look Jenson, I don't have all night so tell me what's on your mind before I lose the last dregs of my patience and people start dying?" I warn her with more arrogance than I feel; what with the way my hand's throbbing.

Now, Cold Fire is great at healing wounds but can't do squat for aligning broken bones and I never was much good at wandless healing spells. I figure I'll have to leave it for later, or risk doing a Lockheart like second year.

_No Thanks._

"No one's died so far, Jamie, and I really don't think you want to start now?" She returns with more assurance than I feel. And I can tell she's hoping what she believes is accurate.

"I'm authorized to offer you a return to your former post, no questions asked, but you have to stop this now, Jamie?" She pleads with me. I can tell by the catch in her voice that not only is she being sincere but she's fervently hoping I'll desist.

"And if I don't?" I ask incredulously.

There's a long pause before she answers and I can tell by the painful resignation in her voice that she's continuing to be sincere, fatally so.

"Then I'm authorized to use **any** and **all **means to stop you."

I snort derisively at that and I can tell by the nervous shuffling this elicits from around the corner that her team is somewhat lacking in the conviction of their commander.

Deciding compliance might be best at present, I offer ... "I d-don't want to hurt you Jenson."

"Then please stop this, Jamie? Please? Look, I know you've got a legitimate grip, but at least hear us out on this?"

"Command wasn't so willing to talk before when they sent out my old team with that wanker- Weasley, to kidnap me with tranquilizer darts!"

"M-Mistakes were made, Jamie, and for what it's worth ..I'm sorry."

"I suppose you and command are also **sorry **that the turds they sent to kidnap me ended up burning my house down in the process?"

By the gasp on the other side of the corner, I can tell that this bit of intel she was unaware of.

"I...I didn't know ... I'm sorry, Jamie, really I am. There was no mention of that in the initial report?" I can tell by the grumbling of her subordinates that they're not exactly thrilled by the news.

If there's one thing that "Light Strike", (at least the former Light Strike), prided itself on was that homes and families are held sacred and inviolate.

We do not, or didn't ever use to take aggressive action against non combatants.

"Look,.. couldn't we talk about this face to face?"

"No tricks?" I question suspiciously.

"I swear on my magic that if you keep your hands down we'll not raise a blade or a wand to you."

"For how long?" I'm still skeptical, or at least am pretending to be as I've already got a plan in mind.

"As long as you like?" she comes back hopefully.

"Alright then." I agree and poke my head tentatively around the corner.

Jenson's hissing for her team to lower their wands and sheath their blades and although reluctant each quickly moves to obey.

Now, there's one thing I'll say for Jenson, she may be tough with a more male type- A personality, but she's definitely got a very feminine figure and the armor she's wearing hugs her in all the right places.

I approach the group cautiously, keeping my hands at my side. My eyes are scanning the group. All six are heavily armed and armored; **Six** being the operative word.

_Where's the other two,.. as if I didn't know?_

I take a discrete glance down and sure enough; I've got a pair of red dots from laser sights dancing over my chest.

So much for a truce although I've got to give her credit, Jenson did state they wouldn't raise a wand or blade to me. She never said anything about a firearm.

They could take me down right now and without my ability to twilight travel as they've eliminated all possibility of shadow, there's nothing I could do about it...or so they think?

The fact they haven't fired already tells me they're using 'tranqs' which are slower moving then bullets,.. much slower, and given this morning events; I'm guessing they would rather settle things amicably rather than risk my escape and later retribution.

They're being cautious and it's putting them at a distinct disadvantage; one I intend to exploit.

Jenson extends her hand, smiling gratefully in relief.. "Jamie..."

I make a motion of returning the favor, though it's cut off by a wince as I favor my broken hand.

"It's broken." I apologize. "Could someone cast a bone knitting charm?" I ask hopefully, knowing they'll be only too eager to keep things friendly.

Jenson nods toward one of her group. "Everett?" She prompts and a young sandy haired male steps up eagerly.

A bone knitting and numbing charm later and..._ relief. _Which is to say that I'm not fully combat capable once again.

Thanks, Jenson.

"I'm sorry about everything..." Jenson begins, but I cut her off.

"I'm sure you are." I return pointedly while tapping my fingers on my chest to indicate the red dots of light that I'm aware of and am satisfied to see the blood drain from her face and her eyes go wide in alarm when she realizes her mistake, or mistakes as the case may be.

First and foremost; she trusted me. In battle you cannot afford to trust an enemy to play fair because they won't.

Secondly; she healed me, taking an advantage and making it a disadvantage.

Last, and certainly not least; she allowed me to get close to her, which not only put her and her team in danger, but nullified her snipers' ability to neutralize me as they no longer have a clear shot with me in close proximity to her team.

Like I said; I'm satisfied. I can see the knowledge of her mistakes reflected in her eyes and am already moving as she starts to bark out a desperate...

"F-Fi... urk!"

She never quite gets out the command to fire before I drive my stiffened fingers of my newly healed hand into her adam's apple, just hard enough to incapacitate, but not hard enough to rupture her windpipe.

Wands are being hastily pulled from holsters. Little good it'll do them as I'm too close for the remaining team members to bring their weapons to bear.

I'm afraid they've brought wands and knives to a fist fight.

I drive my heel into the side of the, sandy haired, youth's knee, the one that healed me. I feel bad about it, but am at least consoled that he'll live to learn from this and maybe that knowledge will save him some day. If he's really smart he'll reconsider his career options, not that he can at the moment as the edge of my hand connects with the base of his neck, knocking him unconscious; which is for the best because that knee is gonna hurt something fierce.

A pair of wandless banishers throws two of Jenson's team; bodily back down the hall acting as a shield from her disillusioned snipers.

By the sound of muffled rifle reports and their cries of alarm as they fly through the air cutting off short; I can tell my gambit paid.

One of the banished team must of connected with a sniper as I can hear a shout of surprise and a lovely groan of pain from down the hall, but unfortunately, have no time to appreciate it.

I drive my elbow into the sternum of the second and only other female on Jenson's team, and she goes down in a heap, gasping for air.

The last; a bulky, mound of muscle manages to graze my jaw with a palm strike. I turn with the blow letting my momentum spin me around and lash out with a well aimed reverse hook kick that connects with the back of the man's skull, propelling him forward.

He grunts in pain and confusion, but before the cobwebs can clear; I leap up and bring down both elbows onto each of the man's shoulders, breaking the clavicles with resounding twin 'cracks' as the bones shatter.

_He won't be playing the violin anytime soon._

With a quick audible command I engage the heat vision on my visor and- sure enough, the second snipers already reloaded and bringing his muzzle to bear with a tranq dart ready for yours truly. There's no time to close the distance before I'm tagged, not even if I could twilight step, which I can't under current circumstances.

There's no choice, save one; a little something I've been working on that I've dubbed: "shadow kick". I launch myself into a flying sidekick, propelled by a combination of shadow and ambient magic. It's not apparating, so much as I'm teleporting myself in minute jumps that are so rapid I leave multiple after images or "shadows" of myself in succession as I close the distance down the hall. The sniped targets one such image and the dart soars helplessly through empty air as the side of my foot catches his floating ribs and imbeds the poor sod in the plaster wall behind him.

His rifle falls from unconscious fingers, twitching spasmodically in silent testimony to the pain that he'll be in when he awakes.

The hard part over, I incarcerate Jenson and company with several incarcerous spells of my own devise.

Like I said before; I'm all about the details. Any competent wizard can conjure ropes to subdue their captives. Likewise your average wizard can employ cutting hexes to remove said ropes.

Me, I like to use piano wire. It digs in nicely into the flesh of my captives, so much so, that a rescuer dare not employ cutting hexes lest they damage or even kill the person their rescuing, not that a cutting hex is even all that effective on piano wire.

Thus,.. it needs to be removed by hand- carefully , and in time consuming fashion.

In other words; Jenson's team and any would be rescuers won't be going anywhere, anytime soon.

After running some quick recalculations thru my head, I figure there's at best eight to ten left in the opposition, not including medical and command personal. Those ten will most likely be securing the armory and or stationed around command, not that it makes any differe_nce._

The details,.. it's all about the details. I plan to see to everyone's comfort or lack there of... I'm going to maintenance.

Now , magic being magic, can only do so much. For instance, warming charms are great , but only last briefly and are certainly not feasible in a facility this size. Therefore, one needs a boiler. A big lovely, natural gas fueled- boiler.

Now if there's one bit of information that stuck with me over the years, it's that Peter Pettigrew blew up and entire city street by intentionally igniting a gas line; killing a dozen muggles and framing my Godfather in the process.

_Do you see where I'm going with this?_

Now, I don't want to kill anybody,.. well, not really, but I do want my pound of flesh, which by Light Strike standards is more like ten pounds.

I figure their house makes up for mine.

Simple, direct and fair.

I know, I know.. not everyone is responsible for my hardship , blah- blah-blah.

I'm not a saint. What I am is a pissed off Shadow Mage. Anyone wearing a lightning bolt insignia over their chest instead of one in the form of a scar on their forehead is currently on my shite list.

Think of me as 'Bad Santa', in that I'm the guy that takes care of all the **naughty**, not the nice, kiddies on the list.

While I confess that I haven't gone over the material lately, but I'm fairly sure that there are a lot of very naughty people around here.

Ten minutes, and several well paced C-4 charges later, and I'm standing outside of command with a shite eating grin on my face.

The grin isn't for what I've done, but what I'm about to do.

Two, decidedly, damaged guards are at my feet and the whole of command is cowering behind an inch of plexiglass that could withstand a battering ram, whilst the room itself carries enough wards to dissuade an enraged dragon.

All save one; that toss pot: Admiral Crenshaw is glaring defiantly at me. Or, at least he was until I showed him the armed trigger device in my hand.

His face further drained of all color and all false bravado when out the window when I pointed to my watch and mouthed a countdown of 100 and engage the trigger...99-98-97...

I can't hear the expletives that are currently being thrown about inside the secure room, but what I can hear is the warning claxons going off around the facility, followed by multiple 'pop' of port-keys going off as command has activated everyone's emergency port-key, transporting them to a secure location elsewhere.

_Perfect!_

You should see the nice facility I picked up for a steal at a recent **fire sale**.


	11. Chapter 11: Fun and Fallout

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry potter characters.

**Chapter Eleven: Fun and Fallout**

Commander Jeffrey Taylor sat staring blankly at the wall his cup of coffee, so desperately needed only moments ago, was cooling in his hand as his wife and eldest daughter shared worried looks.

After several anxiety ridden moments passed with any acknowledgement from his quarter, Gail Taylor prompted...

"Jeff...?"

It was several seconds before Jeffrey Taylor turned pensive eyes toward his wife and daughter though he didn't actually meet their eyes, he more just looked in the direction they were occupying.

"We...We're at war as of 0600 this am." He stated mechanically.

"What?" Gail nearly shrieked in alarm, quickly schooling her tone in fear that she would wake their children from childhood dreams into adult nightmares.

Jeff returned his coffee mug to the kitchen table and pushed it away disinterestedly, finding no comfort in its cooling black depths, at least none that would warm the chill running down his spine.

He'd been awakened this morning by a blaring telephone, emerging from a dreamless sleep into a waking nightmare that seemed beyond impossible.

Not only had Light Strike been attacked, but it had lost the battle and subsequently it's premier installation in a matter of a few sparse hours!

He was ordered to take command of newly returned Beta Group and scout the area to assess damages and ascertain any possible hostile threat that still exists. It wasn't till after that he was informed as to just what that hostile threat was and why.

What he found at the site... was nothing.

Light Strike- One was gone, wiped clean from the face of the Earth as if it had never been.

A fidelius charm was the first thing they considered, but that was quickly discounted as it was virtually impossible given the size of the installation.

A dozen 'Merlin' class wizards, (not that any existed), couldn't pull off a stunt like that.

If not a fidelius charm,.. what then?

They checked and rechecked their coordinates. The location was correct via satellite, but no Light Strike, just a grassy field with a sign ominously posted at its perimeter.

The sign simply read...

**Seized in payment of damages by; Captain Jamie Harrison, Light Strike- ****retired****.**

**If you feel this action is in violation of civil and, or criminal law, you may forward complaint via internet to: www**.

_**P.S. Thanks for the house warming! Love, Jamie**_

"Jeff, did you hear me,.. who are we at war with and why?" Gail 's worried voice brought him back from his musings.

Musings... trepidations more like.

Jeff worried at his temples with the fingers of each hand, trying to ward off the migraine that was threatening on the periphery.

"You better sit down for this." He rasped wearily.

Once seated, Jeff Taylor told them what had happened, mere hours ago, with a straight face despite the ludicrousness of the entire episode. He tactfully omitted the identity of the perpetrator responsible as he'd have never gotten the whole story out once he'd managed to speak Jamie's name in present company.

If anyone, **anyone**, would have told him yesterday that something like this could happen, he would have laughed himself silly at the absurdity of such a notion. That was yesterday,.. today was a different matter all together.

"Harry Potter,...Jamie,... he.." Jeff began but was cut off almost immediately by his eldest daughter.

"Jamie? Is he alright? Do you know where he is? Did you talk to him? How does he..?" The questions bubbled out of Julia as if they had a will of their own.

"Alright,.. alright.." Jeff fanned his hands pleadingly trying to get her to calm herself, though his wife looked ready to jump in and take over, asking the torrent of questions that were on the tip of her tongue, in her daughter's anxious stead.

"Jamie... Harry.. Oh, Hell, Jamie.." Jeff proceeded finally having decided to call him by the name they knew and cared for him as. Whoever he may have been or is,.. he was Jamie Harrison to this family.

"Jamie attacked Light Strike One during the night."

"He what?" Gail shrieked bursting from her chair.

Again, Jeff motioned for patience and Gail reluctantly reclaimed her seat, asking tremulously.. "He's dead, isn't he?"

Despite the seriousness of her inquiry, Jeff snorted a laugh in spite of himself, earning a glare for his trouble from the female contingent.

"Not unless he died from a broken hand, although that was mended, so it's a non issue."

Gail and Julia shared a puzzled look before Julia rounded on her father, "Explain?"

And he did. He told them what he knew of the attack and what little he knew of the aftermath.

He'd spent roughly fourteen hours in the field and another two debriefing. It was now one in the morning and despite his perpetual weariness, he doubted he'd be finding sleep anytime soon.

"Let me get this straight?" Gail began incredulously. "Jamie attacked Light Strike-One and only suffered a broken hand, which was subsequently healed before he tricked command into evacuating the facility and now you can't even find said facility?"

Jeff nodded his head dumbly chuckling as he added... "I know what it sounds like, but that's essentially what happened, furthermore, despite many casualties on our part, no one was killed in the takeover. He beat us bloody, but he didn't kill anyone which is a surprise what with that _giant squid_ he set loose on the west wing of the facility.

"Giant squid?" Gail echoed in surprise. "You mean a giant squid, giant squid,.. with all the tentacles?" She splayed her fingers in the air wriggling them pointedly.

Her husband nodded and answered with a snort. "We received reports that the damn thing wrecked havoc before it escaped into the ventilation system. Merlin only knows what it's into now.

"But why? His daughter wailed beseechingly.

Her father shrugged. "Probably looking for water, I'd guess."

"Not the damn squid, Jamie!" His daughter growled impatiently. "Why did he attack Light Strike now, after all this time? It doesn't make any sense?"

Jeff Taylor sighed in resignation at that. They'd brought this on themselves. He'd warned them to leave Jamie alone, begged even, but no,... command was set on retrieving their lost opportunity despite his serious protestations against.

It was for that reason he'd been kept out of the loop. Now they expected him to act as their olive branch, much good as that would do them. They'd kicked a sleeping badger and the damned thing woke up ornery and with good reason.

Gail caught the change in her husband's visage. Though he kept his features calm and well schooled, she knew her husband and knew when he was holding something back.

"Why,... why did he attack Light Strike, Jeff? You know something; I can see it in your face."

Jeff smiled poignantly at that. He was more proud than disappointed that his wife knew him so well.

"Light Strike found Jamie's hidden location sometime last week and they both planned and sent an extraction team to collect him and return him to command for debriefing and reenlistment." He answered with political correctness that he found wholly nauseating.

"Debriefing and reenlistment?" Julia asked uncertainly." I thought he resigned?"

"He did." Her father answered, casting a grimace his wife's way.

Gail caught his discomfort and prepared herself for what was to come, grasping her daughter's hand supportively, noting Julia's hands were as clamming and trembling as her own.

"Debriefing and reenlistment is a nice way to say that command ordered his kidnapping and subsequent, _'forced'_, reenlistment. Harry Potter, Jamie Harrison or whatever he wants to call himself, is an extremely powerful and resourceful man, not to mention he's beyond famous in Europe. Command see's him as a means to write their own ticket on a worldwide scale.

Jamie's been living on the Australian coast these past six months. They sent his old team along with a new member." At this Jeff's face took on a hard edge as he explained.

"It seems that command, in its infinite wisdom," he lamented sarcastically. ".. enlisted his childhood friend, one; Ronald Weasley, who, by the by, is currently married to one: Hermione Weasley, ne Granger." He paused noting the stricken look from his daughter at this news. He thought to keep it from her, but under the circumstances thought it best to lay all his cards on the table.

"S-She's alive?" His wife asked pensively, casting a wary eye toward her daughter and her obvious discomfort at this news.

Julia and Jamie had only dated briefly, but ,.. with Jamie, even **briefly** was enough for her daughter to have fallen in love-hard.

Jeff Taylor held his daughter's eyes as he answered. "She's alive. Don't ask me the circumstances, because I don't know them, but she's alive and,... married,.. with children to Jamie's former- **other** best friend, the aforementioned, Ron Weasley."

His daughter stared blankly back at him processing this news. He might have hoped she would be relieved at this news, but knew his daughter better. She was her mother in that she was truly passionate and devoted. He could still remember vividly the time that he and Gail , while dating, ran into a previous girlfriend of his. His , now, wife's expression was much the same as her daughter's at hearing Hermione Granger, ne Weasley was alive, though married. Whilst having a potential rival out of the picture was on the surface a 'good thing' it was that hurtful, as well, knowing the level of betrayal that Jamie was undoubtedly experiencing at this.

What hurt Jamie, hurt his daughter regardless of the consequences.

Jeff Taylor shared a poignant look with his wife, knowing that she was considering the same thing.

Jamie's abrupt departure had hurt them all deeply, not that they could blame him once the particulars came to light, but never the less.. they'd suffered a tremendous loss. Jamie wasn't just a close family friend,.. he was a member of this family in most respects, at least those that counted.

Had things been allowed to progress naturally, neither doubted he would have become a permanent addition to the family... by marriage.

Jamie having left Julia his beach house was more than just icing on the cake. That gesture had only deepened his daughter's,(and wife's), feelings even more than they already were.

Eventually, Julia reined in her emotions and with a trembling lip as her only betrayal, she nodded for her father to continue his tale.

"Ronald Weasley along with Jamie's old team tried to capture Jamie by drugging him with tranquilizer darts, but he got away from them. In their zeal to ascertain where he might have escaped to,.. they,.." hepaused choking up at this. "... they accidentally triggered a failsafe ward and Jamie's house was burnt to the ground." Jeff imparted that last in a dread monotone.

Families and houses were taboo. No matter the sins of the target,.. homes and families were off limits. It was a line that Light Strike did not cross, without exception,... until recently.

Gail's tender brown eyes turned icy cold at that, though they were as nothing to the outraged fury that etched her daughter's every feature. The dinnerware and utensils started clattering ominously within the kitchen cupboards.

"Julia,.. calm down sweetheart." Her father admonished before she lost control of her magic, but Julia turned pointedly to her mother.

Gail forcibly shook herself from her agitated state. "Sorry" she apologized, regaining control of her emotions and subsequently her magic.

Jeff quirked a smile at that.

"Shut up" his wife scoffed indignantly to which he shrugged innocently.

"It's not funny." Julia chastised the both of them, before turning her ire on her father. "You're sitting here telling me they tried to capture Jamie, but only succeeded in hurting him and burning down his house? Then, Light Strike has the unmitigated gall to be surprised when he returns like for like? Is that about the gist of it,.. father?" she spat that last sarcastically.

He couldn't blame her for feeling the way she did. He may not have had a direct hand in what transpired, but he knew that eventually Light Strike would make the attempt despite his protestations.

He should have done more, but what? Up until today he hadn't even known where Jamie had sequestered himself to.

"That's about right." Her father acknowledged, steeling himself for the tongue lashing he knew was coming. "Oh,.. and he must've done something with Weasley, Warner and Anderson as they're all M.I.A.? I'm guessing whatever he did it was commensurate with their perceived offenses against his person. That seems the logical conclusion in view of his response toward Light Strike- One." He conjectured with an experienced opinion.

"D-Do you think he killed them?" Gail asked tremulously. She was terrified for Jamie. If he'd actually killed a member of Light Strike... he would never breath free air again, not that he could now, what with the way they were relentlessly hunting him.

She had begged her husband to help Jamie by petitioning command on his behalf and he'd tried. He tried every avenue of diplomacy at his disposal, called in every favor he was owed in his long career, but nothing would dissuade the 'powers that be' from their goal: Harry James Potter.

Gail would have wanted him to resign at that point, but at least with him in a position of authority, he could possibly help Jamie when the time came. They both knew it was only a matter of time before Jamie surfaced and Light Strike made its bid, but this?

They wanted him and they meant to have him. Well,.. they'd at least succeeded in garnering his attention.

Jeff Taylor shook his head, sighing as he replied. "I don't think so. Jamie doesn't kill unless he has to and by all reports from the Australian team.. he didn't have to. In fact, he went out of his way to port-key the downed team away to get medical attention. I'm guessing, and this is only a guess,.. that Jamie did something more , well,.. Jamie. He does have a rather, er,.. ironic sense of humor." Jeffrey Taylor chuckled in spite of the circumstances. His past dealings with Jamie brought an appreciation for the man's sense of justice.

Jamie was definitely one for letting the punishment fit the crime. He didn't know what Jamie had done, but knowing Jamie,.. it had to be something truly special.

The man was an artist.

He couldn't know at that particular moment just how close he'd come in his assumptions.

* * *

><p><strong>The next day, half a world away...<strong>

"But this is simply preposterous?" The headmistress flapped her arms as she squawked indignantly in outrage.

_This just couldn't be happening._

Headmistress McGonagal ignored the paperwork the annoying little flea of an attorney was waving in her face, thinking to appeal directly to the source, much good as that would do her, given the history of their last parting.

"Harry - please,.. this is madness. You can't expect us to evacuate the students in twenty minutes?" she nearly screeched, beseeching further... "Where will they go? Who will teach them? Their parents have already paid a full year's tuition!"

The object of her petitioning was planted in her own- once chair with his leg draped nonchalantly over the arm rest while he considered his fingernail.

"Not my problem. This castle is private property and as such I demand it vacated immediately and not just the children.." He amended pointedly.

McGonagal's face paled dramatically. "You c-can't mean...?"

Harry Potter smiled predatorily in triumph. "I do mean. Remove yourselves forthwith from my castle and take your ghostly confederates with you." He paused briefly, as he seemed to have an inspiration, thus he directed... "On second thought, Peeve's can stay. I may have a use or two for the pesky poltergeist." He smiled wistfully in consideration.

"B-B-But..." McGonagal stammered impotently, to which Harry Potter stood before her with the most infuriating nonchalant smile on his face.

In her own defense; She'd barely had a few minutes to digest the fact that Harry Potter, **the **Harry Potter, was alive and well standing before her desk, let alone that he was an heir of one or more of the founders and as such owned a majority share in the castle and could thereby do with said facility as he saw fit.

And he was doing just that.

_This couldn't possibly be happening? The whole thing must be some form of practical joke. That's it.. he's pulling a marauder prank. _McGonagal started to laugh, nervously at first and then near manically, giving Harry and his solicitor pause as to the women's sanity.

"Oh...Oh y-you had me going there for a minute, H-Harry." The aged witch managed to gasp out as she supported herself with one hand on her desk and the other supporting a titch in her side from laughing.

"I must say,.. I haven't laughed so hard in years. You're truly your father's and Sirius' son. T-That was an excellent prank, but as I'm rather busy you'll have to excuse me so I can return to my work now.. Good Day." she dismissed them moving around her desk making a shooing motion with her hands to get Harry to extradite himself from her chair.

She reflected on that moment as she stood at the gate, to her formerly beloved school and home , with her baggage haphazardly thrown together and littering the cobbles at her feet.

Harry repeated to her from verbatim her own words... "You'll have to excuse me so I can return to my work now...Good Day." he even made the same innocuous shooing motion with his hands as the gate slammed closed in front of her face.

Minerva McGonagal couldn't recall how long she had stood there, on that same spot, gapping stupidly,.. but it was definitely several hours later when the Aurors arrived, having received innumerous complaints from outraged parents whose children had unceremoniously turned up home... many months earlier than expected.

"Professor..?" Distantly she registered Ron Weasley's voice calling to her as if he were leagues away, calling across a sea of obscurity.

Auror Captain; Ron Weasley waved his hands in front of his former professor's eyes worriedly, getting barely a response he passed the obviously 'in shock' woman to one of his subordinates with instruction to take her to St. Mungo's for evaluation and care.

That done; he and the four remaining aurors at his command turned their attention to the ominously closed gate before them.

The decorative wrought iron ivy pattern wound into the gate's bars was now shaped into the words...

_**Harry's Hideaway**_

It took little effort to devise the perpetrator of this morning's what.. prank? Despite himself, Ron snorted appreciatively at his former friend's obvious play on words.

Ron stepped confidently forward, tapped his wand on the gate and commanded: "Open"

And,...nothing.

Ron pulled a face a face and cast the unlocking charm.

...nothing... except, a glowing sign winked into being that proclaimed succinctly, if insultingly...

**No Trespassing,**

**No Soliciting,**

**... and definitely no one with a last name that rhymes with 'Sleazy'**.

A snort from one of his juniors was cut short by an irate glare from his captain.

With a growl of impatience, Ron hit the gate with a high powered _"Reducto!"_

Surprising, the ancient gate's lock burst and the iron doors swung open.

Later, he would reflect on the ease with which he had breached said gate being a warning that he'd failed to acknowledge.

Ron, with his subordinates in tow, stomped to the castle's main doors, finding them also locked and barred to entry.

Not even bothering to make use of the doors clappers, Ron immediately sent a barrage of blasting hexes at the door which had absolutely no affect other than to serve as a crude form of 'knocking' to gain entry.

"Who iz et?" a French accent called down from overhead.

Ron and his companions stepped back and shieldied his eyes from the glare of the sun overhead. Ron spied the object of his ire wearing a thin moustache and a French styled suit of armor atop the gate tower.

"Open in the name of the British Magical Ministry." He demanded.

"Ennglissh? I take no orderz from you, Englisshh swine. I blow my nose in your general direction!" A French version of Harry Potter called down insultingly.

Had Ron or any of the aurors at his command a muggle upbringing, they might have recognized the play of England's own 'Monty Python' that Harry was emulating.

They didn't, however.

"Open this door, damnit!" Ron barked angrily, having lost all patience and with it civility.

"A Moment... I av somzing for you... English dog!" Harry called down in broken French.

Ron and his companions looked up expectantly only to find themselves showered in...

"For you, englisshhh scum, I make ze pee-pee!"

"OMIGOD!"

"EWW!

"R-Retreat!" Ron nearly screamed in panic and disgust, making a beeline for the gate he'd blasted out only minute ago.

"Come back again... Englisshh Vermin, and I will make for you ze poo-poo! " A French accented Harry howled in triumph from atop the portcullis.

Hours later...

"He did what?" a gob smacked Arthur Weasley asked his enraged son to clarify, thinking he'd obviously misunderstood?

"He pissed on us!" Ron hissed in disgust, toweling his hair dry from a thorough, albeit, one of several washings.

Arthur snorted at the ridiculous absurdity, earning himself a glare and a muttered. "It's not funny!" recrimination from his youngest son.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand over his balding pate. "No,.. I imagine it isn't?" he agreed, trying and failing not to quirk a hint of a smirk or a chuckle of amusement.

Ron rolled his eyes at his father. "We'll see who has the last laugh?" Ron vowed detailing that he planned to return and in force. They'd either breach the castle and restore orders or.. "bring it down around Harry bloody Potter's ears!"

Arthur Weasley fanned his hands in placating fashion at his youngest son suggesting.. "I think, given recent information that's come to light, a more diplomatic approach is in order."

"Recent information?" Ron groused. "What could possibly explain his haven stolen an entire school and evicted both the students and the instructors from said premises?"

Arthur Weasely blanched at that deciding it was better just to say it be done. "er,.. the fact that he apparently **legally **owns a majority interest in Hogwarts and can do with it as he pleases."

"He what?" Ron bellowed in both outrage and a hint of wariness.

Arthur Weasley sighed in resignation and dropped into his seat. "The goblins notified me barely an hour ago that at the close of banking hours yesterday, one- Harry Potter staged a financial coop in that he acquired by purchase and proxy a fifty one percent share of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Given that fact, we were in essence..."

It was Ron's turn to blanch as he gasped,"Trespassing on private property, willful destruction of said property with unlawful intent to search and seize said property..." The reason for his wariness had come to fruition.

Ron could only listen impotently; shaking his head in the irony that he had blindly fallen into a well construed trap by his former best friend, as one of his own aurors repeated the same charges he himself had detailed to his father mere minutes ago.

"Please, come with us for questioning and processing, Auror Captain Weasley." The auror finished, brandishing a pair of magic nullifying wrist restraints.

Ron shifted his eyes pleadingly to his father.

"That won't be necessary auror." Arthur intoned hollowly, adding with a pointed look to his youngest son. "Will it, Auror Captain?"

"No sir" Ron agreed dolefully, rising from his chair. "He set me up." Ron accused with a mixture of appreciation and irritation.

"That is blatantly obvious." His father agreed. "And he did so easily, through no little help on your part." He added in recrimination.

Ron nodded shamefacedly in self disappointment as the aurors took him away to a holding cell.

The doors to his office had barely closed when Arthur dropped into his chair with an appreciative, albeit worried groan of frustration.

_Well played, Harry. I can't say, given all that's happened, that Ron didn't have it coming, but, I wonder just what you have in store for the rest of us?_

* * *

><p>The next morning Arthur Weasley, along with the rest of Magical Britain, had a partial answer to his thought provoking question of the day before.<p>

Arthur's wife, best friend, confident and obviously _worried_ mother of his children,... cautiously handed him the morning addition of the Daily Prophet, sniffling softly.

Not surprisingly, the whole of his family, on the island, was in attendance at the breakfast table this morning. This would have normally been a joyous occasion to have all their children home for breakfast, if it wasn't under such unsettling circumstances. As it was; they waited on tether hooks for his take on things. He could tell by; Hermione's presence and Ron's noticeable absence, that his family was aware of some of what had already transpired.

"That bad, eh?" he surmised accepting the paper from her trembling hand.

Molly Weasley could only shrug her shoulders fretfully and whimper ineffectively as he opened the paper with an expectant sigh.

There, in broad headlines, was the announcement of Harry Potter's triumphant return to the British Isles. In a candid interview with Rita Skeeter, (of all people), Harry reluctantly detailed his role in the demise of the terrorists: Voldemort and his Death Eaters, under the alias of Jamie Harrison, former commander with the prestigious anti terrorist and rescue organization: Light Strike.

The article further went on to detail Harry, or Jamie's, (as it were), falling out with Light Strike and why.

The only questionable byline in the whole story was the article's slant on his office's use of extortion to garner money, (from the self same hero that had liberated Britain), for the relief of families beleaguered with individuals that were known terrorists, whose demise had caused their families financial strife. His own daughter and daughter in-law included, just to name a few within the article.

The article further reported Harry Potter's persecution, by his former employer; complete with vivid photos of his once home's charred remains.

The article demanded justice for Harry Potter both from his administration in acknowledging his heroic actions in Britain's behalf, from the Confederation of Wizards in seeking both reparations and protection from his former employer: Light Strike, whose reputation regarding its enemies was legendary.

_Enemy_ being the relative conclusion as Harry Potter freely acknowledged his role in a counter attack against Light Strike which resulted in the seizure of Light Strike- One, Light Strike's premiere installation.

Arthur Weasley paused in his reading to rub at his already aching eyes, trying in vain to ward off the approaching migraine.

Previously, he would have laughed himself senseless if anyone would have offered the preposterous notion of any force attacking Light Strike and living to tell the tale, let alone succeeding, and then only- **one man**?

It was beyond ludicrous. Beyond Insane! But, coming from Harry Potter, (who himself was believed dead only a year ago),... it was undoubtedly true.

"I-Is any of this true, Arthur?" His wife asked anxiously, wringing her hands with worry.

He nodded, answering..."Most of it, yes. Though the extortion slant is a bit extreme, one could argue the validity of Harry's point of view on that. As far as that last bit about Light Strike; I'd say the gist of their response toward Harry is accurate, but as far as his having counter attacked them, I have no knowledge, though I suspect, he wouldn't have divulged said information if it wasn't essentially factual?"

His twin sons whistled simultaneously between their teeth.

"It's not possible. **One man**? One man couldn't successfully counter attack Light Strike?" His eldest son blurted disbelievingly, adding further, "Hell, an entire nation couldn't muster enough fire power to go up against that lot, not and actually do them any significant damage!"

Arthur refrained from answering letting the gathering get their initial surprise and outrage off their collective chests. Once they'd finally wound themselves down he

* * *

><p>"Are you thirsty, Ron?" a sarcastic voice caught him unaware.<p>

Ron's head shot up to find his once best friend standing unobtrusively outside the bars of his cell.

"Harry,.. I.." began regretfully, but was cut off.

"Why don't you crawl over here and I'll give you the same relief for your thirst that you once gave me all those years ago?" he suggested darkly.

Ron paled dramatically at that, but managed to acknowledge dolefully. "I deserve that. I deserve all of this." he flung his arms out pointedly in recrimination. "But, please,..." he began to beg. "Please don't hurt Hermione, Harry? Please?" he begged piteously.

Desperately he tried to draw Harry's wrath on himself. "It's my fault. I'm the one to blame. I told her and she believed it because it because it was me telling her. She didn't want to believe you'd gone dark, but I convinced her. I'd like to blame it all on Dumbledore, but I can't. I should've known better. You were my best friend, but all I could see was my own pathetic greed and jealousy at what you had, but I didn't. I know better now, or at least am beginning to?"

Harry twisted to and fro as if searching for something. "I don't see any dementors."

He delighted in the light of understanding that dawned in Ron's eyes.

"You look relatively comfortable in there. Clothed, fed, reading materials. Where were these relative luxuries when I was chained naked and bleeding to a wall? Despite all, you have a family that's still out there supporting you, doing all in its power to see you through this relatively unscathed whether you deserve it or no. Where were my friends and family when I was set adrift on a sea of despair and misery?"

Ron broke down in sobs of anguish and regret at that.

"Now you cry." Harry scathed in disgust. "You cry for yourself, in your own self pity."

"P-P-Partly" Ron managed to choke out between sobs.

"Spare me." Harry snapped back with a sneer of disdain.

"P-Please Harry,... please d-don't...?" he begged desperately.

"Now you plead for yourself." Harry assumed with a sense of ire.

Ron shook his head. "F-For Hermione. D-Do what you want to me,.. but please, please don't hurt 'Mione. Please don't take her from her children. They mean everything to her, to.. to us."

Harry was shaken by that,... he hadn't really considered the harm and hardship he would place upon their children in seeking what he considered his just vengeance.

"I...I make you no promises, but ,.. I'll think on it. Whilst I do,... you think on this? I warned you. I WARNED YOU TO LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry's voice rose to near deafening and his magic swirled around him with deadly portent.

Having visible struggled to regain some sense of self control, Harry continued more calmly, but with no little malice in his voice. Given the choice, Ron would have preferred the former.

"Was it not enough to wrongfully imprison and abuse me that you know hound and attempt to kidnap me with malicious intent?

Was it not enough that you and yours drove me from one home, that you have now destroyed another?" Harry's voice turned even more deadly cool and his eyes to near slits of green so dark that looked as if black.

Shadows coalesced around him as if the very gate of hell was held back by his will alone. "When will it be enough Ron, when I'm dead? Because if that's what you truly seek, I can assure you... you and all of yours will go before I."

Ron shuddered at that, shaking his head in denial. "I'd never wanted that, Harry. The only reason I came was talk to you,.. to tell you how s-sorry I was." He snuffled dejectedly.

"And all I wanted was to be left alone." Harry conjectured wistfully. "Perhaps its fate's own will?" He conjectured with a dark chuckle of irony.

Ron's eyes rose hopefully at that only to have said hope dashed when Harry grabbed the bars of his cell and shook them violently wishing it was the man's own neck he was wringing.

"Or perhaps it's you own unthinking stupidity that has beset me yet again? I was this close, Ron!"

Harry arm shot between the bars, his fingers a scant inch apart for emphasis. "I was this close to having something of my own, **someone** of my own to love and cherish."

Harry shook the bars again, only this time they groaned in protest, threatening to give way with Ron praying they'd hold.

"Damn you Ron! Damn-You-To-Hell! As much as I hate you for what you did then,.. it's nothing compared to what you unthinkingly had a hand in now!"Harry seethed and wrenched violently at the bars, only this time one of them broke from its mooring with a horrific screech of rending steel and the crunch of breaking mortar.

Despite himself, Ron pressed back warily against the wall of his bunk and stared wide eyed at the horrific sight of enraged shadow mage before him.

Shadows circled and coalesced around Harry as if he were the center of a thunder storm that crackled with discharged energy like lightning strikes across a night sky.

The shadows seemed to engulf Harry such that only the green of his translucent eyes showed from their black depths. They bore into Ron's seeming to become closer,.. and when next he noticed...

Harry was standing in his cell mere feet in front of him, no bars were there between them. His penance had become his security, and now even that was no more.

"I can come for you at anytime, anywhere, but,... I was content to leave you and yours obliviously alone, despite your transgressions against me." Harry imparted in a deadly cool tone that was devoid of all empathy.

"I will be content no longer." He added in malevolence. However much Harry Potter may have wanted to forgive and forget, that part of him that is now- Jamie Harrison, could not.

In his state of perpetual shock; Ron could not know how long it had been since Harry left his cell. It was longer still before his sobs of despair gave way to the release of exhaustion and mind numbing sleep.


	12. Chapter 12: Let the games begin

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

A/N: Yea-Yea I know: Where have I been? Am I blocked? Did you die or something? Sorry, I've just been extremely busy of late. Am back to writing and next installment of "Half Alive..." will be up in a day or two.

**Chapter Twelve: Let the games begin**

"Hah, Dragon...Wooo-Hooo!"

Hermione Granger stood wide eyed and gapping just as all the rest of the spectators around her initially did.

The gates and fences of Hogwart's boundaries was line with adoring fans, plaintiffs, solicitors, reporters and several grim looking characters that everyone kept their distance from as they gave off a natural aura of _seriousness_,... fatally so.

Stunned disbelief gave way to cheers, applause and shouts of support as Harry Potter did yet again the unthinkable.

Despite herself and her initial resolve at the absurdity of the spectacle before her, she found herself cheering along with all the rest.

Harry Potter, former Light Strike commander and defeater of Voldemort, was dressed as a cowboy,(hat, chaps and all), and riding on the back of a Hungarian Horntail that made the one he'd faced in fourth year pale by comparison.

The dragon roared its displeasure as it snorted flame and tried to buck its rider off.

Harry grabbed the cowboy hat from his head and proceeded to smack the dragon's backside with it as whooped and hollered, grunting with effort as each jarring impact threatened to dislodge him from his mount.

"Ye-hawwww!" Harry howled as the Horntail burst into the air with a powerful thrust of its titanic wings.

Hermione ooh'd and ahh'd like the rest as the horntail looped and barrel rolled trying to dislodge Harry from its back.

She, like many others around her, had come to beseech a moment of his time. Some arrived hoping to enlist his image for endorsements, some hoping to broker business dealings, others she recognized as quidditch scouts hoping to sign his seeking talents to their perspective teams.

Those had hoped to sign him as his name alone would generate enough revenue in ticket and souvenir sales to easily offset and team losses by less than professional playing ability on his part. Whether or not Harry was still capable of playing seeker was rapidly being answered by the spectacle above.

Harry had lost nothing on his once prodigious talent for flying.

The other _serious _looking characters were a mystery, but she'd bet her last knut they were 'Light Strike' in origin.

Though Hermione had come for more personal reasons than the rest, she quickly realized that she was in some ways no better than the other parasites around her. She wanted something for herself that she had no right to ask for.

She'd burned her bridges long ago where Harry was concerned. Sure, their all having thought him dead was a viable excuse, but just barely. It was really their own shame and guilt that had kept them from seeking him out and making reparations, let alone amends.

Believing he was dead was just an excuse, albeit a poor one to hide behind.

Her betrayal, and yes; betrayal was the right distinction, was one of the heart. She'd known he loved her as a friend. She'd also known that after a time those feelings, at least for Harry, had begun to change.

She hadn't encouraged it, not really, but,... she'd let it happen even though she didn't return those feelings. At least she hadn't thought so at the time.

What was so confusing for her then was crystal clear to her now.

She'd like to claim she'd been deceived and manipulated, but really, she'd allowed herself to be deceived and manipulated.

In turn, she'd deceived and manipulated.

Dumbledore had beseeched her in the name of the accursed, "Greater Good", to entertain Harry's burgeoning feelings toward her, to cajole him into sacrificing himself for the "Greater Good".

She couldn't do that to him. What she did was even worse. She led him on into believing that what he wanted was the same for her. That the life and dreams he harbored for his future paralleled her own. She never came right own and promised love, marriage, home,... happiness, but neither had she discounted the ideas when Harry made mention of such when he was undoubtedly feeling her out in prospecting for a future bride.

All the while she was not only in love with Ron, but loving him, as well. She was even pregnant with Ron's child at the final battle. Hence the caution she'd received when she'd fallen to Bellatrix's curse.

At least she'd believed it was for her and the baby's sake at the time. No, if she were honest with herself, she'd only wanted to believe that too.

Her absent support was being used as a tool to break him further so that Dumbledore could rob him for the "Greater Good", his greater good.

They'd stolen his love, his self respect, his freedom and finally they meant to steal his home and family's legacy which was all he'd had left, that and his name. In retrospect, they'd effectively taken that too as Harry had been forced into hiding behind an alias.

Now that he'd emerged triumphant, the parasites had gathered to try and take it all away once again.

She was low and dirty. She knew she wasn't fit to darken his door, but she'd come anyway. She had to.

It was too late to make amends, she knew that. She was here only for her family's sake, at least that's what she told herself and strived to believe.

The truth was, and he deserved the truth if nothing else, she loved Ron. A part of her had then and always would, regardless of any other feelings she may or may not have harbored. She'd loved Ron and had made her choice.

Thus far she'd lived with it. She had to. For in the magical world there is and can be no divorce. Magic joined the bride and groom together as one. The magic of each combined with the other. Two souls became as one.

She used to puzzle over whether she truly loved Ron as much as she thought she did or had it only been their magic willing it so. In time she found she didn't care as the feelings were there and nothing could change them.

Death was the only release form marriage vows in the magical world and even then most did not thrive after the death of their spouse.

In joining with Ron had she improved two of three lives or had she destroyed all three?

From the moment she'd made her vows, ... she no longer cared as she once had.

It was both blessing and curse.

"Whoa Dragon! Whao!" Harry alarmed demands drew her from her dark musings. She looked up in time to see the horntail come to a screeching halt some few feet above the ground, sending Harry sprawling into the frosty ground with a deafening...

**Whaumphh!**

Harry tumbled across the lawns coming to a sliding stop on his backside some few paces from the gate she watched behind.

She winced in the sure knowledge that he'd have no few bruises to remember the experience.

Harry climbed shakily to his feet, limped over to the horntail, that one could swear was lounging _smugly_ nearby, and smacked his hat across the dragon's flank proclaiming, "Stupid Dragon!"

He limped gamely over to the gate that she and many solicitors were lining. In the push to be the first petitioner, she found herself shunted to the side with an outraged gasp of; "Well really!"

"Mr. Potter...Harry...Over here, Mr. Potter... I represent the..." Dozens of people began clamoring at once for his attention though they quickly quieted after he fanned his hands calling for such.

"Alright you lot... if anyone's here selling something-beat it." He barked and nearly half his petitioners left the fence grumbling disappointedly.

Harry nodded his approval and added... "Anyone that's here to try and get me to endorse something for them, and I don't care what... beat it too!"

Another large group cleared away, albeit reluctantly.

Once vacated, he added: "Those seeking dates, form a line to the right."

Squeals of delight came from dozens of giggling women jockeying for position in line.

"Not that right, my right." Harry clarified with a churlish grin.

Hermione huffed in annoyance, knowing that he was only taking the mickey and had no intention of even considering dating any such "fan girls". At least the boy she once knew wouldn't, this Harry however...?

Harry eyed several men wearing business type robes at the gate to his left.

"What's your shtick?" he huffed in speculation, indicating the group as a whole.

One of the men quickly proffered a handful of papers that was apparently a contract.

"I represent the Chudley Cannon's, Mr. Potter. We'd like to offer you a five year..."

"Chudley?" Harry barked in obvious revulsion, interrupting the man before he could finish his pitch. Harry shuddered for effect that had several people chuckling.

"I'll have no part in anything that Ron Weasley supports and as he's your number one fan- forget it!" Harry snubbed the man without a moment's consideration.

"Besides, with your record of attendance... you couldn't afford me." Harry threw out in afterthought, adding insult to injury.

Many of the man's competitors snickered appreciatively at that.

Hermione, for her part, found the exchange very telling as she knew Harry was already establishing his opinion of anything Weasley in name.

Harry addressed the other, now obvious, quidditch scouts present.

"For those of you not in the know, which is most of you; I'm not a fit and fun seventeen year old athlete but a twenty-eight year old former field operative and believe me... I've got some wear on me. I'm hardly quidditch material, nor am I gullible enough to assume that you want me manly for my good looks."

Many tried to interrupt but he shouted them down with... "Look, if you're really serious then send your proposals via Harry's Hogwart's Haven and I'll look things over, but no snow jobs." He warned with a glare that had several scouts gulping nervously as they hurried away to the nearest floo, vying to be the first to enlist his services.

That done, Harry eyed the four _serious_ looking individuals on his far left.

Hermione watched with interest as he steeled himself and walked with dread certainty to the gate directly in front of the four quietly waiting.

Harry tipped up the brim of his black Stetson and drawled with a country twang, "A bit far from your range, aren't ya boys?"

Many people still milling nearby moved away pensively from the area, sensing this was not a friendly call.

"Quit fooling around, Jamie." The obvious leader of the four growled out.

"Fooling around? Why I've got loads and loads of time to 'fool around'. I find retirement agrees with me. Today I'm teaching an old dog new tricks and tomorrow I'm planning on a round of thirty six at 's Links; it's a lovely new gold course that I'm reliably told was designed by its namesake himself."

"Cut the crap and surrender yourself for questioning. You can start with where Warner and Anderson are?" The leader's second barked out taking a warning step forward.

"Warner and... Anderson? Warner and Anderson...?" Harry tapped his chin thoughtfully as if trying to recall the names.

He snapped his finger. " I know...Warner's a big chap recently promoted... no sense of humor. He proved that when he made Anderson his second." Harry shook his head in obvious distaste.

"Last I saw them; they were enjoying their own retirement. I'd recommend the same for the rest of you. There's no future in Light Strike. It's a sinking ship with nothing left, but rats on board."

Hermione chuckled in spite of herself at that. Harry certainly hadn't lost his ability to infuriate others, only he'd developed a darker sense of humor in doing so.

In other words, his comments did not fall on appreciative ears as wands materialized into the four hands.

Many of the females present screeched in fright and bolted from the area. They'd decided a date was not really something they wished to consider just now.

Harry sighed disappointedly as he watched several young witches scamper off to safety; oblivious to the wands leveled threateningly right in front of him.

"Thanks a lot. There goes many a night's pleasant distraction." he quipped sarcastically.

"You're coming with us, Jamie, and you're coming now!" The lead officer demanded.

Harry goggled at that. "What, and miss tomorrow's tee time? I've been waiting three months already."

Hermione snorted in spite of herself at that.

"Fire!" The Light Strike officer commanded without pause having tired of Harry's antics, for all the good it did them.

The curses connected with an invisible shield that hissed and crackled with each strike becoming momentarily opaque.

Hermione staggered back in shock...the barrier covered the entire grounds in an immense dome.

With grunts of strain the group poured more energy into their spells, some of them lethal in appearance. If anything the energy they were expending only seemed to increase the strength of the shield they were trying to penetrate.

Finally, after several minutes, they gave up panting from their labors.

"Having fun?" Harry asked smirking at their frustration.

"You can't hide in their forever, Jamie."The lead officer, a Lieutenant Makowski, snarled in threat.

Harry merely shrugged indifferently at that before he chose to rub it in.

Hermione was directly watching him and even she couldn't believe her eyes. He stepped through the gate as if it wasn't even there and then he stepped back.

All the while he chided the Light Strike group as he stepped back and forth announcing in a sing song fashion. "I can step out. I can step in. Step out, step in. Out-in-out-in..."

After their initial shock wore off, the Light Strike team tried and failed to subdue him every time he appeared right in front of them and every time they missed the opportunity.

Finally the lieutenant threw down his wand in frustration and challenges Jamie to face him 'man to man'...big mistake.

Harry, for his part, hoped back and forth from one foot to the other excitedly. "Are you serious?" he chortled in a 'too good to be true' tone of voice.

The man assumed a defensive posture promising.. "Right here-Right now."

Harry smacked his hands together rubbing them briskly in anticipation while the man flicked his fingers toward himself, daring Harry to come forward... and he did.

The instant he stepped through the gate three wands came to bear, all of them firing stunners without a moment's hesitation.

All they hit was the barrier that covered the whole of Hogwarts. Harry had already snatched up the lead officer and was back within the safe confines of the barrier and thrashing the man before the first stunner hit.

First, an elbow across the jaw to disorientate.

Then a knee to the stomach to incapacitate.

Followed be a vicious kick to the groin for purely... animosity's sake.

The officer was lying in a heap moaning at his feet within the space of a few sparse seconds.

The rest of Light Strike watched impotently as Harry conjured a steel triangle dinner bell that he rung with a steel bar yelling, "Come and get it!"

**Rowrrr **

A growl of feral delight split the air as the Horntail came lumbering from out of the Forbidden forest licking its chops expectantly.

The crumpled man screamed in terror as the salivating beast swooped down over him. The dragon snuffled over the man like he was a fresh steak off the grill, and just as quickly pulled back with a disappointed look, hissing its displeasure toward Harry.

"What'd ya mean... it smells funny?" Harry groused, interpreting the Dragon's parsel mouth reply.

Harry kicked the mewling man with a booted heel scoffing. "It's perfectly good meat and you're wasting it."

The dragon hissed and spat in what could only be described as an indignant tone.

"Fine." Harry groused impatiently. He waved his hand over the, now crying piteously, Light Strike officer and did a human to animal transformation, a sheep actually.

The dragon pounced, grabbing up the cringing animal and carrying it off by the scruff of its neck as it bleated in horror.

Once the two disappeared into the forest, Harry sauntered back to the gate asking the three remaining Light Strike operatives.. "Anyone else want to take me on- "man to man"." He made quotation marks in the air for emphasis.

To Hermione's utter surprise; one of the world's best and bravest actually yelped in terror before the three apparated away to safer duty elsewhere.

That done, Harry walked past her as if she wasn't even there. That, in itself, did not really surprise her as she'd expected a chilly reception at best and deservedly so.

He readdressed what few witches that still had the courage to seek a date with his person.

"Anyone married or in some form of a committed relationship may leave, please?" Harry directed.

Not surprising a few of the women left grumbling dejectedly.

"Those under seventeen or older than say forty-five, are also exempt." he further detailed sending a few more disappointed women on their way.

He took a quick head count of those remaining and chortled happily. "Seven in all- excellent! There's one for each night of the week." He smacked his lips lecherously causing an excited stir amongst the giggling female contingent and a roll of the eyes from Hermione.

"Please submit your name and return floo number to Harry's Hogwart's Haven and I'll contact you shortly."

At that, seven witches apparated away or made a beeline for Hogsmeade to borrow the nearest floo.

He turned away with an appreciative sigh that turned into a distasteful gurgle at seeing the last female remaining.

"No married women." He reminded drolly.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at that. "Are you really going to date all of those women?" she asked in a curious if disapproving tone of voice ignoring his barb.

It was his turn to cock an eyebrow as he returned. "Would that there were more." In afterthought, he recanted. "Still, it is only the first week. Once word gets out I'm sure the numbers will improve."

Hermione pulled a face at that, but not one to miss an opportunity, she entreated. "Can I talk to you?"

Harry crossed his arms over his chest incredulously, asking.. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Should I need one?"Hermione huffed impatiently at that.

His visage soured.

"Ten years ago –no. Now though?" he let some of the hurt and anger bleed into his voice. He'd be lying if he said it didn't please him to see the pained, shamefaced expression it elicited.

Recovering herself, she begged. "You've every right to be furious with me, but don't take it out on Ron? He's..."

"Innocent?" Harry asked interrupting her dubiously. "He spit on me when they dragged me in for that farce of a trial. It wasn't enough that he betrayed me in the worst way possible, but he spit on me just to show his contempt. There he was glowering down smugly with his sister right alongside him on the ferret's arm." He spat that last as if the memory was burned into his very being.

Hermione jolted back as if his words hit her like a slap to the face.

"You didn't know,.. did you?" Harry growled. "What happened to all of that famed curiosity from the cleverest witch of her age?" He goaded, circling her predatorily. "Maybe it was a matter of complete indifference now that the deed was done and the sacrificial lamb was led to the slaughter?" he conjectured sarcastically.

Hermione's pain filled eyes snapped up to his mocking ones as he continued to slowly rotate around her eyeing her critically.

"Y-You..knew?" she gasped.

Harry smiled cruelly. It was a smile that chilled her to the bone. "Not then. I was foolishly naive then. I actually trusted in my friends-then. Shows what little I knew. I had an epiphany on seeing you alive in Arthur's office."

Those words pierced her heart like a knife, but he wasn't done.

"One might say I originally had a moment of clarity when Ron's spittle hit my cheek. Later, once I'd worked through denial and the hurt finally passed,... then numbness set in. It was then that I was able to start analyzing things for what they were."

She was already reeling. It was then that he went for the throat. "Tell me, just how old is your eldest child, Hermione?'

Hermione goggled at that managing to choke out a hesitant... "T-Ten years old."

Harry smiled predatorily as he pressed further. "Nearer eleven, I'd wager."

Hermione paled at his assumption. She tried and failed to defend herself, little good it would do her as the look on his face told her that she'd already confirmed his suspicions.

He was looking in her direction when he next spoke though he wasn't really seeing her. He was more just reminiscing to himself. "It was Dumbledore's idea for me to distance myself from Ginny lest she become a bigger target , giving Voldemort leverage over me. I couldn't know then that he was already undermining me with the Weasley's. Planting the seeds of doubt to make things that much more plausible when he made his move. Breaking things off with Ginny allowed him the opportunity to put a different spin on things, especially when he **benevolently**," he spat the word as if it was poison, "was maneuvering me toward seeing you in a new light."

Harry's green orbs held such deep set pain when they settled on her. "It wasn't hard, really. You were already my best friend and confident. Beautiful, intelligent and I'd thought at the time; steadfastly loyal."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears at that as Harry sighed dejectedly. "Merlin, I was so damn naïve."

His eyes hardened as her tears began to fall. His voice turned bitter, accusing. "Or was I?"

"H-Harry,.. D-Dumbledore said... he said you needed a r-reason to f-fight,... to..to.. want to win." She struggled to explain, scrubbing at her tear filled eyes.

He waved her off disgustedly. "I'm sure he did." He agreed with such venom that it raised her hackles in trepidation. "He needed to me to sacrifice myself and if I should survive,... to break me after... and you helped him."

She was shaking her head in denial, but she was lying to herself just as she had for all these past ten years. She'd like to believe that it had been unintentional on her part. That she had been confused by her own feelings, but she hadn't. She'd made her choice and shamed herself in the process.

"Stop it!" he thundered, startling her from her crying jag. "Your display of self pity disgusts me." he seethed. "Did you learn it from Ron or did he from you? The last I saw the contemptible traitor he was on his knees begging and crying in your behalf. Now, I can only assume, you've come to do the same in his?"

Hermione nodded forlornly in agreement. She tried and failed not to cry further, but she couldn't help herself knowing that he saw her in the same way that she was denying and failing not to see her own self all these years.

He snorted derisively at that, informing her. "As I told him and now you, I'll think on it, but only for your children's sakes. Not his, nor yours, but the children's. Were it not for them, he'd be dead already."

"H-How can you even talk like that?" she shot back, finding her courage at last. "How can you be so cavalier about taking lives?"

Harry smirked knowingly as he answered with infinite patience. "I've had good teachers and loads of experience. Look how well it turned out when I spared Peter's life. That _kindness _ cost me Sirius' life." He reminded her.

Hermione trembled knowingly at that, but countered: "Mercy is not a weakness, Harry."

"No,... no it's not." He agreed with a cruel smile that chilled the very blood within her veins. "It is a necessity." He clarified. "It is a _mercy_ when one puts down a rabid dog. It is a _mercy _when healers remove the life support from a human ravaged by disease; when they are left knowing only pain and anguish. It is a _mercy_ when a lioness destroys the runt of her litter so that the rest may have a chance to thrive. "

He could see the pained acceptance of these viewpoints within her own eyes so he pressed further giving her something to worry and fret over.

"Are you suggesting I should show your family this same form of _mercy_ where Ron's concerned?"

Hermione's eyes goggled as she gasped in fear compounded by his disappearing before her very eyes as if he was acting upon his assumptions.

She apparated away to the ministry, desperate to get to her husband whilst praying that he still was alive.

She arrived scant minutes after Harry's sudden departure. She bolted past security check points, flinging her I.D in startled faces, drawing additional attention as she refused to relinquish her wand, even knocking guards out of the way with stunning or paralyzing spells.

She arrived outside Ron's cell, with several guards hot on her heels, finding him playing an intense game of cards with the very person of Harry Potter. Both scrutinized their hands diligently.

Ron drew a card from the stack, smiled in triumph smacking down his hand and announcing "Gin".

Harry tossed his own hand down in disappointment. "Alright, you win." He acquiesced, disappearing into thin air.

It was only minutes later when the captain of the guard released Ron stating that all charges had been dropped against him.

Hermione, on the other hand, was being held for resisting an auror, assault on ministry personel and suspicion of aiding and abetting felony escape.

* * *

><p>Ron stood before the gates of Hogwarts staring in abject disbelief like the rest of those gathered around him.<p>

The crowd from the previous day had grown exponentially driven by the country's newspapers and even more so by word of mouth.

He, like many of those present, had come to petition the castle's owner, and _eccentric_ resident.

_Eccentric _if Hermione's described experience from the previous day was anything to go by; the man was absolutely barmy.

There was Harry, on the once pristine lawns of Hogwarts, playing a round of golf on a now professionally sculpted Scottish golf course. He wore the traditional cardigan, knickers and doffed a hand knit bonnet.

But that wasn't the reason for the crowd's stunned disbelief. That would be the titanic Hungarian Horntail that was shuffling along behind him acting as his caddy. It too wore a knit cap on its horned head and a bag of clubs clutched in its teeth.

The crowd surrounding the gate held their breath in anxious expectation as Harry scrutinized the lie of his putt.

A practice swing, a soft tap and...

Oh no,... it lipped out of the hole, balancing precariously on the edge, but not falling in.

The crown groaned in disappointment, Ron unthinkingly doing so along with the rest.

Grimacing, Harry turned to his caddy and hissed something in parsel tongue.

The dragon thumped its tail on the ground so hard that the crowd nearly lost its footing, that and the ball fell into the hole.

The crowd cheered in triumphant adulation as Harry tipped his bonnet, before flinging it into the crowd causing a brief riot of sorts as people scrambled shamelessly to retrieve the souvenir.

A young witch came up with the prize and Harry happily signed it, following with a lengthy autograph session by both Harry and his dragon caddy.

Apparently the dragon had learned to make a mark using a hippogriff quill furled in its ridged tail.

It took Ron the better part of the morning waiting, as witch after giggling witch presented themselves in various stages of revealing robes; all jockeying to get Harry's undivided attention.

It was while he waited in line that he realized something. It was something that was probably very important though he had no idea why.

What he realized was that the spectacles Harry was creating were just that- spectacles. He was pandering to the crowd, but the question was why?

Harry had spent ten years in relative anonymity, followed by six months completely off the grid trying to avoid detection. So why was he trying so hard to get attention now?

Harry loathed attention as a teenager, and his adult life thus far appeared to follow that rule. So why was he putting on such outlandish displays now?

It was certainly entertaining and enjoyable, but what was it really? Was he just blowing off steam now that his life was his own or was their some hidden agenda that he was working through?

Ron's train of thought was interrupted as he was knocked out of the way by an entire team of heavily armed and armored Light Strike operatives.

"Sorry, no exceptions for past affiliations; can't be showing favoritism and all that. You'll have to wait your turn like everyone else, Captain Priessner." Harry fanned his hands impatiently at the officer in command of the group man.

"Harry James Potter, aka Jamie Harrison you are under arrest for accessory to murder." The dark haired captain barked out challengingly as he loomed over the table Harry was poised behind that he used to sign autographs. His Dragon counterpart puffed a cloud of brimstone in the man's face sending him into a paroxysm of coughing.

Ron bristled at this, puffing himself up to intervene. Light Strike had no jurisdiction currently in the United Kingdom. He never got the chance as Harry took the initiative.

"You'll have to forgive Heath Cliff, he finds Light Strike agents distasteful." Harry chuckled, several in the crowd snickered appreciatively at that.

Ron got the joke, not that _accessory to murder_ was a joking matter.

"Murder is no laughing matter, Jamie." The recovered officer growled impatiently, channeling Ron.

"Murder? Who's murder?" Harry asked vacantly.

"The murder of Lieutenant Ryan Makowski." Priessner returned coolly, clarifying... "Did you or did you not transform the officer in question into a sheep and feed it to your , er,.. dragon friend here?" he thumbed knowingly toward the dragon seated like a heel hound next to its master.

The team at the officer's back shifted uncomfortable, surreptitiously freeing weapons as they obviously expected trouble and were readying for eyeing the dragon nervously.

Ron shifted to the side, flanking Harry.

If Harry noticed anyone's change in body language he gave no tell of indication.

"Murder? Certainly not." Harry scoffed in exasperation. He turned to his dragon and hissed a question.

The dragon groused and growled in return, pulling a look of obvious revulsion.

Harry rolled his eyes as he turned away and explained. "Heath Cliff claims he merely chewed, but never swallowed the lieutenant. As I said; He, like his master, finds Light Strike personnel distasteful."

Outright laughter broke out at this, but was shouted down as the officer demanded the safe return of Light Strike's missing Lieutenant.

Harry hissed the man's demands to Heath Cliff and the Dragon promptly loped away grumbling and growling its displeasure.

He returned moments later with a limp and drool soaked sheep, mewling piteously, from between its powerful jaws.

"**Phoo... plop... Baaaa!" **The dragon spit out the sheep at the feet of the irate officer in charge.

"There you are, good as new." Harry chortled. The crowd laughed along with him.

The officer nodded to two of his subordinates and they promptly port keyed away with the unkempt sheep, not even bothering to cancel the transformation before they left.

That done; the captain seemed anything but satisfied as he waited expectantly.

"Er,.. is there something else I can do for you gentlemen?" Harry asked disarmingly with a questioning smile.

"Light Strike One?" The man ground out. His hand fidgeted above his wand as if he were itching to draw it and was just hoping for the excuse.

"What about it?" Harry asked blandly showing complete indifference.

"Where-is-it?" The man sounded out as if speaking to a dullard.

Harry rolled his eyes answering like for like. "Probably-where-you-left-it."

Ron snickered at that in spite of himself.

He knew this one. He'd watched Harry do it with Snape many times in past.

The man shot Ron a withering glare that clearly said-'don't help' as he continued his failing interrogation.

"Cut the crap already. What'd you do with it, Jamie, Harry or whoever, whatever you are?" the man drawled losing his patience.

"I prefer the title of: Heath Cliff's surrogate brother." Harry clarified. His dragon cohort hissed appreciatively at that.

The captain's fingers came to rest on the hilt of his wand.

"Ah-Ah-Ah..." Harry warned, waggling his finger at the man. The dragon's head lanced down and his teeth parted expectantly a feral growl on its gapping maw.

One of the agents to the captain's right soiled himself. He was a new man, one that Harry didn't recognize.

The dragon curled it's nose in disgust.

"Oh now that's a shame." Harry fawned. "That's gonna stain if you don't rinse it out right away. Heath Cliff?" he asked expectantly.

The Dragon's tail snaked out and grabbed up the terrified man. He scampered off with his prize before his comrades could so much as think to draw their wands let alone fend it off.

Shouts of alarm and panic turned almost as quickly to guffaws of side splitting laughter as the dragon could unmistakably be seen dunking the man into Black Lake in attempt to rinse out his soiled breeches.

Moments later the dragon dropped the sodden, trembling wreck, of one of the world's most elite field operatives, back at his captain's side where he promptly fainted dead away.

"Hmm, weak constitution." Harry mumbled in disappointment.

The captain grimaced in disgust nodding his last two viable subordinates into action. Each hoisted up an arm of their incapacitated comrade and port keyed away without comment.

That done, the captain rounded on Harry accusingly. "Are you finished having fun?" he bit out sarcastically.

Harry quirked a half grin that conveyed a host of emotions: satisfaction, pleasure, contempt. "On the contrary." Harry deliberated. "I have an abundance of leisure time at my disposal. The real question is whether or not you're up to providing me enough diversion to fill my schedule?" he challenged.

"Diversion is it? I'll give you all the diversion you can handle along with a hospital ward to handle it in!" The captain growled threateningly. His hand shot toward his wand, but Harry was already moving.

Ron was moving too. Instinctively he cast a shield charm over himself and the gaggle of squealing fan girls behind him.

Harry kicked the card table he'd used for signing autographs into the man's wand arm knocking his first curse, (a bone breaker), off target. The brown lighted spell flew harmlessly off toward the forbidden forest.

Ron gapped in surprise despite his expectations. It was one thing being on the receiving end but it was another thing seeing his former friend in action from a spectator's view.

Harry flowed from the forward kick, (that had launched the table), into a spinning back kick that knocked the wand from his assailant's, now broken, hand.

Without missing a beat, the wounded captain grabbed for his sword in a back handed grip from its scabbard at his left waist.

The sword never entirely cleared its scabbard. Harry caught the man's left wrist in mid draw and slammed both wrist and the pommel of his blade back into the man's left temple.

"**Unghh" **The unarmed captain slumped to the ground unconscious, his sword now resting in Harry's hand.

Ron gapped in disbelief. His gaze turned back and forth between Harry and the downed man at his feet. _No one's that fast... no one? _

At least that's what he told himself. Harry had been a seeker and if he was honest with himself, a world class one at that. Ron had seen him make impossible catches of the snitch time and time again. His reflexes were the stuff of legends,... _but this?_

The gasps of disbelief from behind drew his attention back to present and he hastily dispelled the shielding charm he'd summoned, all the while his eyes remained transfixed on the spectacle before him.

That word rang out again within his conscious mind... _spectacle._

There was Harry, eyeing his what...pet? The dragon was dancing back and forth in hopeful anticipation as it hissed pleadingly.

"What're you gonna do with it?" Harry asked warily.

More hissing from the dragon and an exclamation from Harry answered the question.

"You want it for a tooth pick? Oh, alright- here." Harry tossed the fallen captain's sword to the dragon.

The beast snatched up the gleaming prize, like a dog with a bone, and set off at a brisk trot to store it in his lair.

"Make sure you get those back molars." Harry called after it with a humorous snort.

He shook his head wearily at his companion's antics. He turned his attention back to the crumpled form at his feet, musing out loud to himself...

"And what am I to do with you?" he grumbled irritably, adding. "Where does Light Strike find these idiots? I swear, the place is going to hell in a hand basket, sending Priessner of all people and him with that 'holier than thou' attitude of his." Harry groused. "Well, I can't just leave you here? Some dogs would happen by and piss on ya. Doesn't seem fair to the dogs?"

In sudden inspiration, he snapped his finger chortling... "I know!" he waved his hand and the downed Light Strike captain disappeared.

That done he clapped his fingers appreciatively and turned back toward his quests.

"Where did everybody go?" He pulled up in disappointment, seeing only Ron was still present.

"I think they, er,... decided they had more pressing matters elsewhere?" Ron conjectured with a knowing grin.

Harry grimaced in disappointment. "I seem to get a lot of that?"

"Can't imagine why?" Ron chortled.

Harry caught himself realizing he was falling back into old habits. "You're a one to talk?" he rounded on his once friend, though growled with far less vehemence than he once felt.

Ron paled slightly, but he didn't allow himself to be cowed. "I know that. Just like I know that apologizing isn't enough. There's no way I can make up for what happened, Harry. I know that." Ron wrung his hands through his hair venting his frustration as he paced back and forth deliberating.

"But damn it,.. don't take it out on 'Mione? She's the only one in all this who's..."

"Blameless?" Harry interrupted, answering with a distinct note of sarcasm.

Ron paled at that half realizing that he was going to say just that, and half knowing just how inaccurate an excuse it was.

He splayed his hands in frustration to his once friend, begging silently for some feedback on just what they could do to make things right.

Harry nodded his understanding of what Ron was silently asking.

With deadly serious eyes and grim tone of voice, he answered: "Kill yourself."

"W-What?" Ron goggled nearly gagging on his questioning reply.

"You heard me." Harry confirmed. "Kill yourself and I'll forgo my vengeance against your entire family."

Though shocked and pale with dread, he still found a spark of his former mistrust and low self esteem bubbling to the surface.

"So you can have 'Mione for yourself? Raise my kids as yours?" he spat back accusingly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Not interested. She's damaged goods as far as I'm concerned. Besides, she made her choice long ago. It was you then. It's you now. Your death won't change the lady's heart."

"Then why?" Ron pleaded dejectedly.

"So that you and everyone you love will know what it is to lose everything you care about."

Ron gapped wide eyed at that, understanding at last the depth of his betrayal and what it cost his once greatest friend.

"No more, then?" he asked hopefully.

"No more." Harry confirmed. "I'll take an unbreakable vow if you like?" Harry offered sincerely.

Ron shook his head. Despite everything, he knew that Harry Potter was a man of his word. He didn't need any vow for security's sake. If Harry said he would let his vengeance go, then he would.

With a trembling hand he extracted his wand from within his auror robes and put the tip to his temple.

With tears trailing down his ruddy cheeks, he said a silent prayer and with a last whispered gasp of "I...love..you..'Mione..."

He cast a final spell of: "Avada Kedavra"


	13. Chapter 13:Taking things to another leve

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

**Chapter Thirteen: Taking things to another level**

"Wh...W-Where am I?" I ask in trepidation of the shrouded figure hovering before me.

_You are in a hell of your own making, Ronald Weasley. _A strange and dispassionate voice answers within my own mind.

"But there's nothing here?" Ron whines twisting his head to and fro. Nothing but endless shrouded and desolate lands stretch as far as the eye can see.

_Exactly._ The voice answers, now with more emotion, but not the kind that holds even hint of compassion.

_You are in the seventh level as you mortals perceive it. The level preserved for betrayers. You see before you the price of betrayal. Naught, but never ending desolation, isolation and depression._

_It shall be as a hollowness within you that you can never fill. _

_An itch that you can never scratch. _

_A hunger that you can never sate._

_You will know despair, Ronald Weasley. _

_You had all that one could ever want, but you treated it with contempt. Friends, family,.. love._

_You __**spit**__ on it as if it were beneath your notice. Just as you __**spit**__ on the one you betrayed._

"B-But I paid for that. I paid with my own life?!" Ron argued desperately.

_As well you should for you took life. You crushed hopes and dreams and left despair in your wake. You paid the world of men for your betrayal, but in so doing you have offended the creator by destroying his most precious gift._

_Destroying one's own life is an affront to the great father. A __**betrayal **__._

_Now you shall answer for it._

He wanted to scream until he woke from this horrific nightmare. He wanted to rage, cry, beg...

Even oblivion was preferable to this, this ..emptiness.

The shrouded figure chuckled mirthlessly as if sensing his thoughts. He could tell by its cruel mocking laughter that it could and was doing just that.

He was about to beg for another chance when the shrouded figure winked from existence and was gone.

It left him alone and adrift on a sea of bitter isolation.

Only scant minutes had passed and already the crushing weight of loneliness was pressing in unbearably from all sides.

Had he known then what he knew now, he would have licked Harry's feet clean with the spittle he'd cast on his once best friend.

Despair overwhelmed him like some cloying shroud. Tears came in a bitter torrential flood of self loathing for what he'd become and in heartbreak over what he'd taken for granted.

Long and hard he cried. His sobs of agonized despair echoed hollowly across the desolation. He had time, years to feel sorry for himself, an eternity of such if need be. For there was no one to hear his misery. There was no one to care for or comfort him.

He was alone with naught but himself for company. For that is the price of selfishness and treachery.

* * *

><p>Hermione stood alone at the gate to her <em>once<em> alma mater. She found it fittingly ironic that her _once_ best friend made a mockery of it solely for her personal benefit.

She knew that was what he was doing. He wasn't just putting on a spectacle for the enjoyment of the masses. He was thumbing his nose at them. He was mocking them, only they were too thick to even realize it.

She realized it, however. She had once prided herself on her prodigious intellect. Now she wished for ignorance as she watched Harry rub it in solely for her benefit, or at least she thought it was only for hers. Not everyone else's but hers. Why else would her charges have been mysteriously dropped and Ron having not been seen since yesterday. His last reported whereabouts being the very gate she now stood before.

The whole thing smacked of Harry, and as far as Harry was concerned:

Despite the chilly November weather he was only wearing shorts and a tank top with a white broadcloth apron covering his front that read: "Butter me, baste me, serve me up hot!" He completed the ensemble wearing flip flops on his feet that 'swapped' the soles of his feet every time he moved. He was hovering around a barbecue pit with an enormous boar roasting on the spit. His pet dragon, Heath Cliff, was blowing fire gently over the glowing coals whilst Harry lathered barbecue sauce over the crisping skin of the beast with what appeared to be a push broom.

Heath Cliff's tail was drumming the ground as he drooled in anxious anticipation of sampling the succulent meat.

"Oh boy-oh boy-oh boy!" Harry clapped his hands together appreciatively. "I think it's done." He turned to his, er,.. _pet _and directed.

"I'll get the drinks, you get the buns." He chortled excitedly.

He conjured a mug for himself with the initials H.P. on the side and a giant water dish with H.C. likewise displayed.

Hermione smirked in spite of herself. She had to admit the display was so ludicrous that it was that humorous too.

The crowd around her seemed to think so as they laughed when the dragon returned sans the buns with a sheepish look on its snout.

"Where're the buns?" Harry asked disappointedly.

"**URRP!"** it belched** in **embarrassment.

"Oh for the love of..." Harry began to complain in disgust, but was interrupted by yet _another_ company of Light Strike operatives. This time a very **large** contingent had apparated into the area and as a result many, if not all, of the casual spectators decided they had far more pressing business elsewhere and departed rapidly to pursue it.

"Harry James Potter, aka, Jamie Harrison, aka, Evan Black..." A voice amplified by a sonorous charm rang out across the grounds, demanding: "You are ordered to cease and desist all nonessential activity until the return of Light Strike-One and all Light Strike personnel are satisfactorily returned forthwith by order of Light Strike command operating with the endorsement of the International Confederation of Wizards and that of the British Magical Ministry."

_UH OH. _Hermione thought, her face taking on a painful expression. Her father in-law had not made any mention of aligning with Light Strike when he'd participated in her release from holding yesterday.

The slip did not go unnoticed by her former friend who shot her a brief glare of indignation as he commented vaguely, but with no little implied threat, "The friend of my enemy..."

"I have a warrant for your arrest... Harrison." The admiral added impatiently.

"Whoa,... sounds serious?" Harry mumbled, doing a double take. "Better see what's what?" He commented stepping toward the gate before thinking better of it and glancing back toward his reptilian companion.

Heath Cliff had been surreptitiously inching his way toward the roasted boar. "Oh, no you don't!' Harry growled in alarm.

The dragon slunk away whimpering like a whipped puppy.

"Some people?" Harry groused in exasperation.

That done he strolled up to the gate in front of none other than ... "Admiral Crenshaw" he bit out with a distinct note of dislike.

"What's a matter, can't find your office?" he snorted sarcastically.

Whatever he was referring to obviously angered the man who already had his wand to hand. The platoon of Light Strike operatives with him began fanning out ominously behind their leader obeying some unvoiced command.

"We're not fooling around her _Lt. Commander_. We want what's ours and we want it now." The man demanded pointedly mentioning Harry's own rank as if this would force him to comply.

Those that had as yet remained; instead of dispersing as would be prudent, was shambling out of the line of fire whilst hanging on every word.

As far as words went...?

"Nope"

Crenshaw goggled at the man as if he'd been struck dumb. From what Hermione could gather by the man's extremely offended body language; this was probably the first and only time he'd ever given an order that was refused.

"What- do-you-mean...nope?" The man seethed in barely restrained fury.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I-mean-nope, as-in-negative-nada-no siree-nix." He returned sarcastically in the same condescending drawl the admiral had just used.

"Where is Light Strike One-_Lt. Commander_?"

"Around"

"Around where?"

"Around here." Harry returned with deliberate vagueness, or so the man thought.

"Around **here **my **arse**!" The admiral shouted back losing all patience which was essentially nil from the get go.

His operatives brought their wands to bear threateningly, obviously sensing the order to attack was forthcoming.

Harry seemed not to care in the least. If anything he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

He snapped his fingers and a span of buildings, nearly half the size of Hogwarts, shimmered into being on the other side of Black Lake.

Startled gasps and exclamations followed coming from the Light Strike operatives as they immediately recognized the object of their interest.

In sudden realization, Hermione broke down in side splitting laughter in spite of herself. She was oblivious to the tension unfolding around her.

"H-How did you..you couldn't possibly...why would you...?" The admiral rambled in stunned disbelief.

Harry merely shrugged indifferently offering blandly, "I'm starting a collection."

It took a long moment for that comment to register before a response came back and when it did, it was an unfriendly one.

"Take him!" The enraged admiral screamed.

Hexes, curses, spells of every possible lethality streaked straight at one-Harry Potter, who, for his part, fanned his mouth as he yawned.

The barrage of magic hit the invisible shield surrounding Hogwarts/Light Strike-One and was absorbed in its entirety to the relief of what few of the previous crowd, that still remained, but managed to send them fleeing in terror for their lives.

"Say that reminds me?" Harry exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "If you're all here, then who's minding the store?" He ventured pointedly with a cunningl, predatory smile curled his lips.

Admiral Crenshaw, having been stunned to speechlessness at seeing the complete impotence of their magical assault, suddenly found his voice...

"You wouldn't dare?!" he scathed indignantly, cottoning on to Harry's intent.

By way of answer, Harry put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle.

His dragon familiar landed beside him with a deafening roar that knocked many of the Light Strike people from their feet. Some regained their feet only to flee hastily to attend to other matters elsewhere-anywhere.

Harry waved a hand over himself and his chef attire transformed into a gleaming dark green scaled armor.

Hermione goggled, not at the casual display of wand less magic but at what Harry was wearing as another piece clicked into place within the puzzle that was Harry Potter, aka Jamie Harrison.

_Basilisk hide! _She had never ventured into the Chamber of Secrets and had never wanted to despite her curious nature. Some things were just too dangerous and best left alone. The Chamber of secrets was one such place.

She knew form Harry's past recollections what the basilisk supposedly looked like and she'd bet her last knut that his armor was made from that very hide.

_If dragon hide could stop all but unforgivable curses, than what couldn't basilisk stop? _

Harry heaved himself up on the ridged back of his familiar apologizing as he did so.

"Sorry I can't stay and chat but I've got things to do, places to go and buildings to collect."

That said, Heath Cliff blew into the air with a roar of challenge echoing down to the shocked Light Strike people below. They were the remaining few that had found enough courage, albeit reluctantly, to stand their ground. They, and a laughing hysterically, Hermione Weasley.

"G-Get to Light Strike two, on the double!" Crenshaw barked in alarm.

"B-But sir, it'll take at least twelve hours to get back ...?" a subordinate reminded from his left.

His weak arguments went unnoticed as Crenshaw furiously tapped at his com-link become more and more frustrated at his inability to contact base command and warn them of Harry's intentions.

"The bastard must have set up a radio jamming device over the area? My radio link is fried." He grumbled irately.

"Mine too." A subordinate added unable to establish communication.

"Same here."

Hermione laughed all the harder earning herself a glare from the frustrated Admiral, drawing his ire upon herself.

"Something amusing?" he sneered projecting his wrath on the only person available.

"He's been playing you right along. I get it now." She chortled, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

It was brilliant, absolute genius.

As much animosity as he currently held for her and her entire family by marriage, she couldn't help but marvel at the simple cunning of his plan.

He knew that Light Strike was expecting another attack from him and that they had undoubtedly prepared accordingly. That and counted on them retaliating in kind.

So he drew them out.

The spectacles he'd been putting on were just that. Spectacles! He drew attention to himself and Light Strike came into it part and parcel.

Each time they sent more and more personnel to try and apprehend him, thereby leaving themselves weaker and weaker until they had more personnel here than what Harry knew they could still have adequately guarding their facilities with.

He had intricate knowledge of Light Strike. He undoubtedly knew to a man just what numbers he was dealing with and waited till they overcommitted themselves in the wrong direction.

First he destroyed their ability to send advance warning of his intentions. Sands that, it would take these operatives many hours to get back stateside, even with cannibalizing the portkeys of others left behind as they were now planning to do per Admiral Crenshaw's orders that he was currently barking in sheer desperation.

Harry had hours on this team and the added element of surprise on their home base.

All this whilst he was mounted on the fastest mode of flying the world over, not that it mattered. If he was what she suspected he was; Harry was probably already painting his new digs with the colors he liked.

* * *

><p><strong>New digs...<strong>

"I know you can't see it H-C but it's down there." Harry hissed in parsel tongue to his mount who was currently circling the area he'd indicated.

The two had arrived just outside of Beulah, North Dakota, scant moments after having left Crenshaw and company standing furiously impotent, behind at the Hogwarts' gates. It was 11:30am Scotland which made it roughly 4:30 am here.

_The middle of the night_.

More importantly, at least for Harry, it was dark out. Using _twilight _portals, he and Heath-Cliff had flown right through one and out the other; covering thousands of miles in moments.

"The facility is cloaked by a Fidelus charm, you can't see it, but you **can **smell it!" He suggested, hissing a laugh in parsel tongue as he took a leaf from old snake face in the Chamber of Secrets.

He couldn't appreciate those orders to the blinded basilisk at the time, but later, the simplicity of that strategy ingrained itself on his psyche.

Heath Cliff's growling return told him he could do just that. Harry had no such difficulty as he was viewing the smaller facility, of Light Strike Two, from the twilight realm. There was no hiding there as all things were laid bare to scrutiny in varying shades of gray.

From the lighter shade surrounding the facility, he could tell that installation was flooded with lights.

They were obviously taking no chances. Though, by the look of things, they weren't able to muster more than a guard or two patrolling the perimeter of the compound and a single man gunning a fifty cal. in a central tower.

He figured he had roughly ten minutes before Crenshaw was able to get a man to a satellite link so they could call in an alert.

Though Crenshaw and the bulk of Light Strike's field agents were still either there or port keying from Scotland, their com link could cover the distance as quickly as he had. They would soon be alerted to his impending visit.

Not that it would do them any good.

"How about it? Yah, feeling frisky H-C?" Harry chortled.

"Grrr- hifff- spaffff!" The dragon growled and hissed beneath him.

"No you can't eat them." Harry answered worriedly.

"Iffff –pithhhh."

"They smell like chicken?" he gapped at that, but countered, "No sampling, mind?" he gave stern warning.

The dragon grumbled dejectedly at that.

Feeling sorry for its disappointment, he offered. "You be a good boy and we'll stop for takeout on the way home."

"Fowrrow, blissss." The dragon hissed in eager anticipation.

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "No,.. not Chinese." He warned.

"Pressss kiffff." The dragon argued.

"I don't care if there are a lot of them, no Chinese!" he returned firmly.

"Bowrrr thafff?"

"Oh alright, seafood." Harry grumbled pulling a face. He hated fish. "But nothing bigger than a shark?" he cautioned.

"That last time you grabbed up a whale we caught Greenpeace's attention and those blighters never give up once they decide against you."

"Githt- prssss- mrrrr?"

Harry chuckled at that. "No,.. I don't think they'll believe dragons are an endangered species." He patted his mount's shoulder joint reassuringly.

Harry cast a bubble head charm over himself before directing. "Now, just like we planned."

Heath Cliff twisted his long neck around and fixed him with an indignant glare.

Harry started apologetically. "Sorry, did you want one too?" he offered friendlily.

"Grrr" the dragon growled his disapproval.

"Maybe to you it doesn't, but to us lesser mortals-pheew-wee!" he snorted in disgust.

More grumbling beneath his was ignored as Harry started his countdown.

"More to the left and straight on... That's it... keep er steady... Three-two-one... let er rippp!"

**FLURRRRRPPPPPPP**

On cue the Dragon broke wind over the length of Light Strike Two

"OMIGOD!"

"UGGGG-GAAAA!"

"MY EYES- THEY BURN!"

Harry was laughing so hard he nearly fell off Heath Cliff's ridged back as screams of disgust echoed up from below.

Once he collected himself he patted Heath Cliff's flank and chortled.. "Got enough left for another sweep?"

The dragon's long neck twisted around and he fixed his counterpart with an incredulous glare.

"Right, sorry." Harry apologized. Dragons, he'd found loved spicy food. Only, they paid for it in the end- literally.

Harry nudged the dragon's right flank with his booted heel and his dragon responded veering to the right.

"That takes care of the exterior guard, now all we have to do is eliminate the facilities air filtration system and they'll be at our mercy." He commented appreciatively. "Drop it on my mark and then we can make our run."

"Three...two...one...MARK!" Harry ordered.

**BLUUURRRPPPPPP**

Heath Cliff dropped a load of diarrhea from his backside that a herd of elephants on a steady diet of juju berries would be hard pressed to match.

The dragon banked hard left and came in low over the mess he'd painted the hidden facility with.

"Torch it!" Harry ordered and Heath Cliff blew a gout of intense flame over his leavings.

Now, as previously mentioned; dragons like spicy food, which for dragons' means...INFLAMMABLE.

**WHOOOSH**

The offal went up like napalm. Thick cloying smoke of burning refuse was sucked into the facility's air filtration. Even if it could handle the smell, which he knew it couldn't as he was barely able to tolerate the stench at this height and that was with a bubble head charm added.

"Phew... no more Hormel Chili for you, Heath!" he gasped in disgust, trying to breath shallowly through his mouth as he wiped at his burning, watery eyes with the sleeve of his tunic.

"My turn." He announced, hardening his resolve. He'd been looking forward to this next part, but now, given the current climate,.. he wasn't so sure anymore.

_OH well, better the devil you know._

With that thought, he reminded Heath Cliff to rendezvous in twenty minutes and leapt from the Dragon's back.

He'd no sooner cleared Heath Cliff's spiny backside than conjured a _twilight portal_ beneath his falling body, reopening the same into a smoke choked hallway of Light Strike Two's tactical center.

Light Strike Two was more properly the second phase of Light Strike's development. Light Strike One was its crowning facility where as two was a transitional phase from its original, now known as Light Strike Three.

Each was larger than its predecessor having grown in size as it developed into a western hemisphere power house.

Thus, Light Strike Two was severely limited by comparison to One both in size, personal and capability.

What it did have was a well stocked tactical division of muggle fire arms, munitions, wands, armor, knives, swords, emergency medical supplies, field rations, ie.. _a well stocked larder_.

He knew that command would prioritize that area as most vital and therefore would place it under the heaviest guard.

So it was a good thing that he had absolutely no interest in any of the aforementioned things tactical had to offer.

What was of interest was the Nav-Com unit that gave pinpoint GPS locations of every Light Strike operative in the field. Those locations were relayed via a subcutaneous micro chip that each agent had implanted into the flesh of their underarm- no exceptions to the rule. Every field operative wore one for their personal safety.

Their personal safety was about to be compromised.

The terminal readout would be in command central displayed on a geographical map of the entire world. Command was also a priority and no doubt- well guarded.

The relay point however?

First things first.

By the shouted orders and heavy footfalls echoing from around the corner, Harry could tell that tactical was digging in expecting a full out assault.

He'd hate to have to disappoint them what with all the trouble they were going to.

Hmmm, squids were out. He'd done that and hated to be repetitive. He had a reputation to consider.

He snapped his fingers in revelation, remembering a few of the Saturday morning flicks he use to steal a glance at when Dudley was preoccupied with the action on the telly.

He conjured himself a nice small herd of elephant. By _small_ he kept the numbers down to a workable six of the pachyderms, taking nothing from their individual size.

He twilight portal'd himself atop the largest bull shouting.."Unk -Numa...UNK!"and kicked its flanks as hard as he could.

BAAAA-WOOOO

The elephant trumpeted and launched itself down the hallway ahead, its fellows trampling hot on his heels.

"What the f...!"

From within the dissipating cloud bank came a barrage of hurled curses and spells of every imaginable color.

_Stinging hexes? Stupid choice that. All it did was enrage the beasts propelling them forward._

_Blasting hexes? See above, only worse._

_Stunners? Puh-lease._

_A scurgify? Cant's say I blame that in retrospect at the elephant weren't exactly house broken if you know what I mean?_

We were bearing down on a knot of defenders when the unmistakable green of an _AK _sizzled past my ear.

Bow, while I admit that the elephant stampede is going to cause a helluva lot of damage; I don't intend for it to cause any loss of life.

Therefore, you can see why throwing a _killing curse_ my way might impact negatively upon my feelings.

A quick alteration in my attire from black field wear to loincloth and it's on like Donkey Kong.

"UHHH-A-UHHHH-AHHH-UHHHH"

A Tarzan yell later and Numa and the gang begin leveling the playing field-literally so.

"NOOOOO!"

"Aiiii-YEEEEE!"

"Somebody help...!"

"Run for it!"

Not the most loquacious nor courageous lot I'll grant you, but I can see their point. Those sorry citizens still of their feet make a beeline for the supposed safety of the command hub down the left hallway.

Now that the smoke has mostly cleared I can see them scrabbling over one another to get through the door to the hoped for safety within.

Again, I can see their point as the command unit is supposed to be nigh impenetrable; inch thick tempered glass, titanium steel reinforced doors and concrete walls two feet thick. That's just the structure, then there's the warding.

Numa and the boys have earned a treat, so I conjure a half ton of peanuts, in the shell, and thoughtfully scatter a smattering of them in front of yonder doors with the bulk twi-lighted into command itself.

WOOO-HOO... it's raining peanuts in there!

**BAAAA-WOOOO!**

With a titanic bellow the gang plows forward in eager anticipation.

So much for sound proofing?

I know for a fact that Light Strike paid top dollar to sound proof their command units. They should get their money refunded.

Though muffled, I can clearly hear a lot of terrified screaming that's nearly drowned out by profanity laced threats, at my expense, from within the command center.

Now, I don't really know if many tons of eager pachyderms are enough to break down reinforced and warded walls and doors, but I'm sorely tempted to find out, merely for posterity's sake, of course.

_Decisions...Decisions?_

Unfortunately, I decide to remain professional and finish business before engaging in other more pleasurable pursuits.

That and the loincloth, whilst keeping in character, does little to cushion against elephant hair.

That stuff's like razor wire!

I'm gonna need a nice soothing ointment later, preferably applied by an experienced and compassionate pair of feminine hands.

A pinch of Peruvian powder should give me a moment of darkness to make my escape, that and disorient the elephants enough to enrage them further.

Five minutes later and I'm downloading field operative coordinates directly onto my notebook from the GPS satellite relay.

Yes, I use a notebook and not an iPad as I refuse to get sucked into the never ending Apple cycle of buying and upgrading. Even my wealth has its limits.

That done, I destroy the satellite dish and rendezvous with Heath Cliff who takes particular delight in my suggestion to lay down cover fire over the smoldering installation below, encouraging its occupants to remain inside to avoid incinerating themselves in an attempt to escape, thereby giving me ample opportunity to visit some old friends without interruption.

_Let's see,... whose first on the list? Ah,... Alan Nordstrom._

I like Alan, I really do. Of course that isn't to say that he isn't guilty by association and therefore needs to be neutralized.

Neutralized? Heh-Heh-Heh. I laugh at the irony. You'll see.

A quick twilight jump. I open the portal. Ah,... sunny South America. It's beautiful here this time of year. It's beautiful here just about any time of year.

A quick scan of my surroundings and...

There's poor, unassuming Alan buying an ice cream and offering it to a young boy whose father he's undoubtedly keeping under surveillance.

I wait until the kid's distracted.

"Alan?"

"Huh?"

**Bam...**a nice clean palm strike to the temple.

"Ughh..." a last gasp before unconsciousness.

"Sorry" I apologize for the inconvenience he's about to be the victim of.

Now,... as I was saying before, I intend to neutralize Alan. The root ward of neutralize is neutral or neuter. Which is what I do or at least it's a distinct possibility given the nature of his supposed, _if fabricated_, crime.

I bind and gag the poor sod and plant some rather, er, _disturbing _photographs on his person before depositing him outside the nearest policia. I leave a note attached to his shirt proclaiming in Spanish... _"I need help. I'm a child molester and can't stop myself."_

Photoshop's got nothing on conjuration.

Now, I can't say for sure that South America will have the same repugnant reaction to Alan's particular offence as say the U.S. or Britain, but at the very least he's going to be out of the picture for awhile, trying to clear his name. At the worst he's going to be playing puppet in the local holding with a guy named "Chester".

I realize that it's a dirty trick, but this is war, after all.

One down and roughly twenty names to go.

My how things change? It seemed only yesterday that Light Strike was a thriving anti-terrorist network with increasing recruitment. Now they're down to less than two dozen field operatives? I shake my head in disappointment.

Oh well, their loss is my gain. I try to look on the bright side of things, especially when someone's hardship serves my purpose.

Let's see, who's next on the list? I decide to choose my targets at random in scattered locations so that if by chance someone should get off a warning to command they won't be able to track my movements and set a trap for me.

_Hmm, Jenson's in Russia?_

I can't help the smirk that pulls at the corner of my mouth as an insidious plan starts to form in my deviously cruel mind.

A quick twilight jump and I'm standing a couple of paces off Jenson Falmouth's left shoulder. She's obviously involved in surveillance as some rather unscrupulous types across the canal, she's watching through binoculars; appear to be in the midst of a rather large drug transaction.

I know by my GPS readout that Jenson's working alone as there are no other agents currently in the area. So either she's working with local law enforcement or she intends to cal for back up that, given the current state of emergency-me, won't be available anytime soon.

I sigh in resignation and step up to her left shoulder offering, "Need a hand?" What can I say? I may be a bastard, but I'm a bastard with a moral compass.

"J-Jamie?"Jenson almost screeches in alarm, catching herself before alerting her targets.

"You picked a helluva time to show up." She comments angrily.

"I get that a lot." I return shrugging indifferently. Out of the corner of my eye I see her hand ghost toward her com link and caution against. "I wouldn't. There won't be any back up coming just now."

Jenson's hand drops back to her side s she sighs resignedly. "It's like that is it?"

I quirk a half grin as I bring her up on current events. "They sent that overzealous turd, Crenshaw over."

I can see by her reaction she finds this as unpalatable as I do.

"The wanker threatened me on my own doorstep." I added.

"And what did you do?"Jenson snorted in question.

I shrug again. "Just reminded the idiot why he's in administration and not a field operative."

Jenson chuckled appreciatively at that.

Once settled, she reminded me that: "I still owe you one for that headache you gave me, you know?"

I nod my head toward the goon squad loading trucks across the way. "Wouldn't you rather wait until after we deal with those degenerates first?"

"You serious?" she returns hopefully to which I shoot her an incredulous glare. "You know me better than that."

She nods dejectedly, countering. "I thought I did." After an uncomfortable pause she asks... "So you're really Harry Potter, huh?"

I shrug again. "Does it matter?"

"No" she returns without hesitation.

I nod my appreciation. Despite everything, Jenson was always a friend and it appears she still is.

"You ready?"

"Always." She snickers.

"I'll take lead and you take right flank?" I suggest.

"Why don't I take lead and you take... where in the hell...?" Jenson's voice trailed off finding empty air where her former comrade was scant milliseconds ago.

Shouts of alarm across the river, that are suddenly silenced, has her snarling a curse at his expense as she apparatus over only to find...?

"You c-couldn't of...? N-No one can move that fast?" she stammers in disbelief as I'm stacking unconscious riff-raff like so much cordwood.

I'm just heaving the last of the would be 'drug lords' into a pile commenting derisively, "I thought you were going to take flank?"

"Funny" she scathes and I've got to admit, she's damn sexy when she gets in a temper.

"Shouldn't you be getting changed? It's nearly happy hour." I remind her wiping the oily sensation off my hands from handling filth like this.

"Why, are we going somewhere?" she asks hopefully.

"We sure are." I return eagerly.

Now, I admit; even though I was honest with Jenson, I was a bit misleading.

A quick wandless transfiguration and Jenson's shivering in a short sequined skirt and revealing blouse.

She barely gasps in surprise before I gather her up and a millisecond twilight jump later has

Jenson standing center dance floor in a Russian Disco on what appears to be 'Ladies Only' night,(if you know what I mean).

Now, I can't be sure, but as none of us ever saw Jenson with a bloke...?

I feel bad about the time locked anti-apparation and misdirection charms I place over the joint's exits to assure her continued patronage for the night. Though that pales beside the torture of endless hours of Russian disco- no one should have to suffer through that.

To make up for it; I left a hefty sum to cover her tab.

Like I said,.. Jenson's a friend.

Onward I go...

Next up is Lewis Hintz. Not a bad bloke if a bit stiff for my taste. I happen upon Lewis in Johannesburg as he's following some rather shall we say, "witches of questionable moral integrity"?

And I thought he was a bit stiff?

Lewis follows the _ladies _in question to a hotel that appears to charge more by the hour than the night.

I have to admit I'm curious as to whether he intends to prevent a crime or _solicit_ one, but as I'm pressed for time...

"Hiya ,Lewis." I chortle clapping the startled man on his shoulder.

Minutes later...

"Leff me go, you fuffing bastarfff!"Lewis grumbled through his gag.

I roll my eyes. "Such language is unbecoming of an officer and an, er,.. a gentleman?" I cock a dubious eyebrow in question at that assumption.

"Foo pay fur fisss." He threatens struggling at his bonds. I have him tied to one of the hotel's cheap beds wearing naught but a pair of rubber undies- in case he has an accident.

"You got that right." I agree.

"I'll just be a moment." I apologize, stepping out of the room and reenter with three handpicked er,.. _hostesses_ for his personal entertainment.

Even though I'm eliminating agents from the playing board, there's no reason I can't be sporting about it.

The first of the three eyes the struggling Lewis and promptly informs me as she rolls her eyes derisively. "Special requests will cost an extra twenty...each."

"But of course, ladies." I agree, handing each the required amount whilst Lewis struggles that much harder in an absolute panic.

In a moment of inspiration, I ask: "Wha'daya say we make it an even fifty if you could be so kind as to take a few nice pictures to immortalize the occasion?" A quick wandless conjure behind my back and I've a camera all ready to document the festivities.

Lewis, for his part, faints dead away at that. Like I said- a bit stiff.

The ladies eagerly snatch up the proffered bills and the lead promises that... "Don't worry, we'll bring him around soon enough."

Whilst another adds. "He'll need the rest-poor dear."

With a grateful nod, I make my excuses. "Ladies , I leave him to your professional integrity and expertise."

Some hours later off the coast of Thailand...

"Wha... my head...?"

"Bout time, already? Now that you've had yourself a nice nap, take a shovel and stoke up the boiler you lay about." A gruff voice orders the disoriented man.

"Stoke up the...? Now see here, I'm Admiral Crenshaw of..."

"Admiral...?" the other drawls sarcastically. "Eh, Kirby ? This 'ear bloke claims es a bleedin admiral, he does."

A grizzled face poked through the bulkhead portal and groused. "Then get yer bleeding arse to the boiler... SIR." The man bit out with a complete lack of respect before breaking into side splitting laughter. "Har-Har-Har!"

The two men guffawed at Admiral Crenshaw's plight as he staggered to his feet grumbled under his breath undying vengeance for one- "Potter bastard."


	14. Chapter 14: Home is the hunter

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

**Chapter Fourteen: Home is the hunter**

**Clack-Clack-Clack...**

"Oh, are you expecting someone?" his guest asked airily.

Harry shook his head irritably. "Yes and no, but just now it's probably a solicitor or some such. I tend to get a lot of that." he said, contemplating the time on his watch and running some calculations in his head.

He left it unsaid whom he was expecting and that he'd lowered the wards around the castle grounds intentionally, not that he was any less vulnerable than previously.

Luna Lovegood-Longbottom just nodded her head in understanding with that strange dream like quality of hers.

Though she was a responsible business woman having taken over the running of 'The Quibbler' after her father retired, and now married with children of hers and Neville's own; she still held that same childlike innocence and optimism that was uniquely "Luna" in nature.

"Heath Cliff, get the door, would ya mate?" Harry called out to his familiar who was idly gnawing at the femur bone of a large creature that even Luna couldn't identify.

The horntail harrumphed irritably, its meal interrupted, before loping off to answer the castle doors.

A mature woman with brown hair and an easy smile turned apprehensively to the side, checking her appearance in her pocketbook's mirror when the Castle doors creaked open and a giant, horn headed creature filled the background of her mirror with rows of razor sharp teeth in what it thought was a _welcoming _smile.

**EEEEKKKKKKK! **

A scream of terror echoed throughout the castle, reverberating off the walls.

"W-What was that?" Luna nearly shrieked herself, coming instantly out of her dream like state that was her own unique air of semi-normalcy.

"One less setting for dinner I'd wager." Harry chuckled appreciatively watching his familiar skulk back to its meal hissing derogatorily.

"T-They're alright aren't they?" Luna stammered apprehensively.

"Nothing a few years of professional counseling won't fix."Harry reassured, motioning her back to their discussion.

Once seated and having downed half a goblet of wine to steady her fraying nerves, Luna returned to the topic of their interview, namely: Harry Potter.

"There's a great deal of conjecture on just why you left Great Britain that first time. I know what I saw and heard for myself from the court gallery that day, but was there more? What other reason or reasons were there, from your point of view."

Harry quirked a half smile that never came close to reaching his eyes. Luna noticed this and shuddered accordingly, hoping that such a look was never meant for her benefit in the future.

"Isn't betrayal enough?" he complained before launching into his version of events.

"Dumbledore chose his timing perfectly and with a few well placed words at a critical moment, during what should have been the final battle, he had my friends and associates believing me having betrayed the light's cause. He wanted to step in and be the hero as he once was during the first war in having defeated Grindlewald."

Harry paused to pour himself a glass of fire whiskey from his study's liquor cabinet. His study was the converted reception hall off of the Great Hall where he'd once joined his fellow tri-wizard champions after his name had conspiratorially come out of the Goblet of Fire.

He motioned the bottle questioningly toward Luna, but she waved off the offer, anxiously waiting for him to continue.

"There was that and the fact that he, with the help of the goblins, had been robbing me blind since I was orphaned. As my erstwhile, **self** appointed, magical guardian and conspicuously placed position as the Wizengamot's Chief Warlock; it was relatively easy for him to pass the right bills and exploit the right contacts to gain control of the fortune my parent's bequeathed me in their will. All he needed was for the goblin's to ..."

"Seal the will until you came of age thereby making all legal and financial decisions for yourself, as a minor, by your appointed magical guardian. He would have complete authorization to make any and all financial decisions for your estate." Luna interrupted him with a halting appreciation for the former headmaster's machinations.

Harry tapped his nose with his forefinger indicating she was on target.

"H-How much did they illegally misappropriate, if I might ask?" she asked pensively, unsure if he was willing to divulge , let alone even knew an accurate accounting of what he'd lost through manipulation and betrayal.

"Somewhere in the neighborhood of one hundred and twenty seven million galleons in both coin and liquidated assets." He readily answered with no little contempt bleeding into his voice.

Luna goggled at the amount.

"W-What could he possibly...? What did he do with it all?" she gasped in disgusted shock at Dumbledore's actions.

That half smile of menace was back on his face as he conjectured. "Curried favor in the political arena and funded his own private little army- The Order of the Phoenix, with himself as commander, of course. He lived at a higher standard than what even a position as prestigious as Headmaster could afford. The head master liked his tailored clothes his expensive books and gadgets- his many comforts. Merlin knows he probably sucked up a million galleons in lemon drops alone." Harry surmised in a disgusted tone before continuing. "He even went so far as to buy himself a nice little plot of several thousand acres on distant shores where he could escape, to maintain his fine lifestyle, if things went pear shaped here."

Harry paused to take a sip of **his** whiskey. It was Dumbledore's personal stock which made it ultimately **his **by proxy.

"As you already know, I threw a monkey wrench into his plans and he died before he could see them realized or himself safely and comfortably tucked away." Harry smirked that smile again, adding... "A pity that. I would have dearly loved to have visited him in his twilight years to, er, reestablish old ties."

Luna shuddered in trepidation at that. She had no doubt what "reestablishing old ties" meant for the former headmaster and it was undoubtedly **unpleasant **to say the least.

Before she could think to ask for more, Harry ventured. "At least I still have the goblins to appreciate. Don't think I've forgotten those little blighters in all of this. They probably stole as much or more than Dumbledore actually did, but for them it was purely for greed's sake. I'm sure that fleecing a wizard, any wizard, but especially one supposedly favored by the wizarding world, appeals to their sense of vengeance for all they perceived wrongs they've suffered throughout their history of endless goblin rebellions."

"W-What are you going to do?" Luna asked intrigued that he would even consider messing around with someone of the goblin's reputation.

"You mean what have I already begun to do?" Harry corrected with an appreciative, if cunning, smile.

Luna goggled slightly at that. She remembered him for the kind, clueless boy that he was, but now was faced with the stark reality of the man he'd become.

This Harry Potter was unlike anything she'd ever known him to have been.

He was not only confident and self assured, but cunning. Not a combination to take lightly especially in lieu of the fact that he'd recently slain the most feared dark wizard of the age.

As if reading her thoughts, which she realized he probably could, Harry ventured that:

"I'm still the same person I once was and I'm not, Luna. The things I once cared about and held inviolate, I still do. Friendship and family are still sacred in my eyes, though I've had little success in that arena." He added with an unmistakable tinge of regret in his voice.

Perceptive as always, Luna picked up on it. "Was there, is there someone special, Harry?" she asked hopefully.

Harry quirked a half grimace before taking a sip of his drink, stalling as he mulled over how much he should or could divulge.

"Are you asking as Luna or as the editor in chief for 'The Quibbler'?"

Luna rolled her eyes at that before answering sarcastically. "You know better than that."

"Do I?" he argued.

"I'm your friend, Harry" Luna shot back emphatically, without a hint of her usual dreaminess.

"Even friends betray, Luna. Your Hermione's friend, as well, aren't you?" he ventured incredulously.

She shuddered helplessly at that. Never would she have believed that Ron and Hermione would have betrayed him as they had. The three had been inseparable friends and faced dangers beyond imagination together.

Irritated with himself, he immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, Luna. That was uncalled for. I'm afraid past experience has embittered me to the point that I've become as suspicious and paranoid as old Moody was." He shrugged helplessly for want of an adequate defense.

Luna nodded in understanding, her curiosity getting the better of her, but with Luna it was a given.

"You've seen them, then?"

His visage darkened slightly. "I've seen them." After a brief and uncomfortable silence, he detailed his 'reunion with his former best friends.

If Luna remembered anything, she remembered that Harry was a man of his word. She also remembered what Ronald did when they dragged Harry into that travesty of a trial.

"Ron Weasley's been missing, quite unexplainably for over a week now,... did you kill him?" It was more of an assumption than a question.

Harry's face soured noticeably. "I wanted to, but he took the initiative." He answered vaguely, seeming disappointed by some missed opportunity.

Luna was about to ask him to clarify his last comment when the knockers at the castle door clacked ominously.

**CLACK-CLACK-CLACK**

His eyes went out of focus for a moment as he checked the castle's wards.

"Speak of the devil?" Harry chortled eagerly.

Heath Cliff, sensing his meal was about to be interrupted again, irately grabbed up his dinner bone and slunk away into the bowels of the castle.

"Ingrate!" Harry admonished after the dragon's retreating tail. He waved his hand oddly in a somewhat dismissive fashion,... and Luna could have swore she heard the castle door's creak open.

"Um, you mentioned something about a devil?" she asked curiously.

Harry smirked as he ventured prophetically. "They say the devil is a woman in a red dress."

Initially puzzled, Luna began giggling when Hermione Weasley stormed into view wearing deep red robes with a complexion to match.

"Where is he?" She demanded without preamble.

"Where's who?"

"Whom", Luna corrected with an airy countenance belied by her churlish smile.

"Whom?" Harry reiterated with a nod of appreciation toward Luna.

Hermione shot Luna a withering glare before rounding on the object of her ire.

"Where's Ron? I know you're behind this. I want my husband and I want him now!" she demanded, stamping her foot angrily.

"What's he look like?" Harry asked disinterestedly.

"Can you describe him?" Luna corrected, this time shooting a smug grin Hermione's way.

Harry tipped his glass in salute to her earning himself a fuming hiss of impatience from Hermione and a giggle from Luna.

"Stay out of this, Luna." Hermione warned in a dangerous undertone.

"Are you threatening my guest?" Harry asked icily.

"N-No,...I... of course not." Hermione stuttered, shifting her eyes warily back toward Harry.

He shifted his gaze to Luna who shrugged indifferently, still grinning as she was happily enjoying the byplay.

_Same old unflappable Luna._

Harry harrumphed in dubious acceptance of Hermione's reassurance before scrutinizing Hermione as if he were deciding on just what he should do with her.

Her ire having run its course, she began to snuffle as tears filled her eyes.

"I..Ron's been gone for ten days... our children cry for their father. We've looked everywhere, but ...nothing. He was last seen here...? Please, Harry... I...I'm begging... p-please?" Hermione snuffled, fidgeting nervously under his intense scrutiny.

"Lost him you say?" Harry tapped his forefinger to his chin in contemplation. "Big fella, red hair,.. not too bright?" he conjectured.

Hermione's tears turned to grumbled expletives before she managed to growl out. "You know very well what Ron looks like."

_She never did have any patience for anyone but herself. Maybe she should learn some? _He mused darkly.

Harry smiled unapologetically, but offered in reluctant consolation. "Who am I to turn down a damsel in distress? Heath Cliff?" he called out into the Castle's Great Hall for his familiar.

The rumbling beneath their feet heralded his counterpart's arrival.

The dragon scrutinized Hermione almost predatorily before turning a questioning gaze Harry's way.

"This bird's" he paused, smirking at her indignant huff at his demeaning description of her person. "As I said, this bird's lost her mate, seen him?" he asked the dragon in English.

The dragon scrunched up its face quizzically, at which Luna broke down in guffaws.

"Paafff, tisss, grttt?" it asked.

Hermione turned toward Harry expectantly.

"What's he look like?" Harry translated.

Luna fell out of her chair laughing at that.

"URG!" Hermione stamped her foot screeching her frustration.

While Harry, oblivious to her irritation, described Ron Weasley in parsel tongue to his familiar.

Once done, the dragon shrugged its shoulder joints in an apologetic 'no'.

"Well,.. he's got to be around here somewhere?" Harry ventured. He summoned a twilight portal that opened like tear in the very fabric of the universe.

Both witches gasped in awe as Harry rummaged about, half in and half out of existence. It was like the top half of his body was just cut off in midair.

They could hear him shifting objects about as if searching through a cluttered attic.

"So that's where I left it." He sang out happily, pulling himself back into the room with a half eaten chicken salad sandwich in his grasp.

"Hmmm, not sure if it's still good?" He sniffed in speculation before his familiar seized the opportunity and snatched the sandwich out of his hand, the morsel disappearing down its fanged maw.

"Hey?" he squawked indignantly.

The dragon belched appreciatively.

"I hope it was spoilt." He groused.

Luna was giggling hysterically, and even Hermione appeared to be fighting a grin of her own at that.

With a last huff of indignance at his, now grinning, familiar; Harry's top half once again disappeared back through the portal.

"What's this?" Harry's voice came back from seemingly nowhere.

He came back into view tugging on, what appeared to be, the scaled tail of a dark black snack.

Hermione shrieked, coloring slightly as both Harry and Luna shot her withering glares.

Harry struggled to pull the appendage farther into their room before giving up and using his magic to wandlessly summon the rest.

The spell had no sooner left his lips than Heath Cliff gasped in surprise and jerked backward unexpectantly.

"What the...?" Harry gapped in surprise.

He stuck his head back into the portal where it emerged out of nowhere just behind Heath Cliff's left rear leg.

"What're you playing at?" Harry asked completely stymied.

Hermione goggled at the spectacle, pointing at one end and then the other. Harry's neck disappeared into thin air not two feet from where she stood, yet his face was some twenty feet away scrutinizing his familiar's backside.

Harry's head emerged back into their side where he promptly stomped on the end of the dragon's tail.

"You stop fooling around and get your arse back where it belongs."

"Yipe-Yipe-Yipe!"Heath Cliff squealed in pain and slunk away, its tail dragging from view as it made for the safety of the castle's interior.

"Always leaving it lying around." Harry grumbled as he resumed his search half in and half out of existence.

Hermione watched helplessly as Harry resumed his antics whilst Luna was rolling back and forth, clutching her sides in fresh waves of laughter.

So distracted were they, they never registered the creak of the castle's doors opening wider nor the voices of other parties in the hall until they were nearly on top of them.

"I'm telling you Jeff, there was a dragon at the door?" A mature brunette defended in a tremulous voice of near panic.

"I'm sure there was, dear." Her husband returned condescendingly, infuriating the women who was about to retort back.

"Oh, mother really?" An adult child cut her mother off. Their child was an obviously stunning young woman at the end of her patience.

Or so Hermione instantly noticed.

They came up short gapping at the spectacle of Harry hanging _half in_ and _half out_ of existence.

"I bet he's around here someplace?" Harry grumbled as he pitched up on his tippy toes and rummaged about out of sight.

"Everything but the kitchen sink? Scratch that... I just found the damn sink." He grumbled oblivious to the scene playing out behind him.

Hermione and the young woman were scrutinizing each other like a strange pair of cats locked in a too small room.

"Jamie... what in the world...?" The elder woman gasped in stunned disbelief.

"Huh..?" Harry startled, recognizing the voice behind him.

**Thump**

"Owe, damn it!" he howled, banging his head as he tried to hastily pull himself out of the portal.

He emerged, rubbing at his head to find Hermione Weasley and Julia Taylor circling each appraisingly. Instant dislike was etched in every nuance of their body language as each sized up the other in any and every category that mattered to the female of the species.

"Who's this?" Hermione spat distastefully, pawing the handle of her wand with one hand and flicking her other hand airily in Julia's direction.

"What's she doing here?" Julia scathed cocking her head likewise toward Hermione.

"Oh, bother." Harry grumped, heading back toward his service bar and pouring himself another drink. He downed half his drink before pausing with an appreciative sigh and gesturing the bottle toward Jeff Taylor who nodded gratefully, backing away from the growing tension. It was an intelligent, albeit cowardly, move on his part and his wife cast him a glare that clearly displayed her thoughts on the matter.

Harry poured Jeff a drink conjecturing... "You lot doing a bit of sightseeing?"

"Right" Jeff returned sarcastically. "We just decided to get away for a bit."

"He was forced out, Jamie." Gail Taylor clarified, stepping alongside her husband whilst still keeping a wary eye on her daughter.

Both women inched their way, though neither appeared eager to so much as glance away from their continued inspection of the other.

_Talk about your elephant in the room._

"I retired." Jeff defended to which Gail rolled her eyes.

"It was that or be fired outright."

"Tomato- Tomatoe" Jeff returned in a singsong tone as he twisted his hand up and down, earning himself an irate huff from his wife as he proffered his empty glass toward Harry who immediately refilled it.

"Full pension?" Harry enquired hopefully.

"Yeah-barely, and had to fight to get every knut's worth. It seems they've had some unexpected loss's lately that have put their finances in quite a bind. It's a good thing I put in my papers early before things starting going downhill."

"Recession's hitting every one hard these days." Harry surmised, nodding his head knowingly.

"Listen to you? Going on so innocent and unassuming?" Gail scathed, planting her hands on her hips and looming over the subject of her ire expectantly. "You're probably the reason for the entire **world's** recession. " Gail scathed. "What are you, some kind of Doom's Day machine?"

On second thought, she snapped her fingers and suggested. "I know,... your one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse." She paused to tap her finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Let me guess- Pestilence, right?"

Harry saluted her with his drink, grinning churlishly.

Luna giggled appreciatively at that, earning herself a curious glance from Julia, who still kept a wary eye trained on Hermione.

"And who's that?" Julia added more incensed than previously.

"Jealous much?" Hermione goaded.

"That's enough you two." Gail warned.

Hermione smirked her direction retorting. "The name's Hermione Granger-Weasley and you're not my mother, so butt out."

"Uh-OH" Both Jeff and Harry gasped at the same time.

Too late Hermione realized her mistake as not one, but both Taylor women rounded on her and lathered her up one side and down the other, instantly cottoning on to not only who she was but the part she'd played in his past betrayal and forced anonymity; then and now.

They finished with Gail asking haughtily,.. "Why are you even here? Aren't you supposedly married to the other jerk that abandoned and betrayed his once best friend? Shouldn't you be home lying to each other about how intelligent and worthwhile you both think you are?"

"I wouldn't even be here if said git, er, I mean _Ron_ hadn't mysteriously disappeared, no doubt thanks to that great prat Potter!" Hermione spat back caustically as she thumbed her hand meaningfully toward Harry.

"Git? What's a git?" Gail asked curiously.

"Pretty much a moron or a dumb arse." Harry offered in rough translation off handily before taking another sip of his beverage.

"Then what's a prat?" Julia echoed her mother's previous curiosity.

"Definitely a plain old arse." Harry threw in to which both Luna and Jeff snickered derisively.

"He's a prat!" Hermione groused thumbing Harry's way again to which Julia rolled her eyes and added... "You have no idea."

"Hey now?" Harry complained.

"Why can't you Brits just call things what they are? And what's with all this "bloody this" and "bloody that"?" she huffed impatiently.

"Tomato-Tomatoe" Harry returned chuckling turning his hand back and fro, taking a leaf from Jeff's page.

Jeff snickered appreciatively next to him holding his drink up in an appreciative toast.

They'd barely downed the remains of their drinks before more harsh words were exchanged and the first of many hexes started flying.

Harry ducked a nasty bluish colored jinx that Gail had cast which Hermione deflected off a hastily summoned serving platter.

"Hey, that's real silver!" he barked in outrage.

A brown stinging hex shattered one of his liquor bottles to which he responded by hastily grabbing up the rest of the bottles that were still intact and shifting his head meaningfully to Jeff that had the other beating a hasty retreat along with him.

They'd barely made it to the relative safety of the once "Teacher's lounge" before an orange colored curse shattered the doorframe they we lunging through.

"What was that one?" Harry asked curiously, not recognizing the hex signature.

Jeff started measuring out a good four fingers of scotch as he replied. "One of Gail's patented 'Beauty Busters' they make it so their target's hair and makeup won't cooperate. Doesn't have a counter, it has to wear off and until then you come out looking like you went to a salon run by Ringling Brother-Barnum Bailey."

"That's cruel that is."Harry snorted appreciatively.

Jeff shot him a speculative glare returning. "It's not even in the same league with what you did to LS-Two. Where in the hell did you get all that Dragon dung you drowned the joint in?"

"From my dragon." He returned dead pan.

"Right, sure?" Jeff came back sarcastically in obvious disbelief. "Where ever it came from, it got into the ventilation and spread throughout the whole facility. They claim the place is uninhabitable and is likely to stay that way for years."

Harry shrugged indifferently, countering. "It's not like they'll need it what with no personal available for the immediate to near future."

"Did you give them the same sort of send off you gave Warner and Anderson?"

Smirking evilly, Harry ventured. "No,.. That was done more spur of the moment. I put more thought behind what I did to the field agents. It's the little personal touches that count."

Jeff Taylor snorted appreciatively at that, chuckling as he offered: "Same old, Jamie, never the easy, straight forward way."

He raised his glass in toast. "To an artist!"

"Thank you-Thank you" Harry bowed appreciatively as he took a sip of scotch.

"Seen any of my er,.. former comrades since?" he inquired curiously.

"Your victims you mean?" Jeff countered. "I ran into Jenson at the airport." He broke off meaningfully with a raised eyebrow.

"She traveling alone?" Harry asked keenly interested.

"Interestingly enough, no." Jeff smirked. "Our previous assumptions regarding her, ah.. orientation? Anyway, seems we were on the right track as she was with a female companion and seemed happier than I've ever seen her. Pretty girl-her companion... brunette, Russian- couldn't speak a word of English, but they seemed to be getting along great given the way they were joined at the hip and making cow eyes at one another."

Harry chortled appreciatively at that.

"Max and Jenny in school?" he asked in obvious disappointment that the Taylor's younger children hadn't made the trip.

Jeff nodded. "Staying with Gail's parents til things get sorted out."

Jamie nodded before airily mentioning what he most wanted to know. "It's only the three of you, then?"

Jeff looked confused for a moment wondering what he was driving at before a thought occurred and he stifled a half smirk.

"Something on your mind?"Jeff asked innocently.

"er,.. no,.. I just figured that , well,.. Julia's probably seeing someone by now..?" he left off openly, his thoughts going back to the second human heat signature he'd spied in Julia's bedroom the night he'd checked on her and the family's safety.

Jeff quirked a knowing half smile at his friend's expense. "I'll leave that particular between the two of you to sort out."

Harry nodded reluctantly, obviously disappointed by that answer.

He was about to press for more before another round of wand fire was answered by Julia screeching...

"**Don't give me that shite? You didn't come sniffing around here wearing red robes like that just to reestablish 'old ties'!"**

"**Like I even need to try with a cheap bit of blonde skirt like you as the only competition? I suppose you brought mum and dad along as witnesses complete with a pre-nup and a portkey to the justice of the peace?!" **Hermione scathed right back.

**"UH-OH"** Jeff and Harry gasped as one, again. The room outside suddenly filled with the sounds of exploding hexes as the witches in question took things to a whole new and more violent level of instant dislike.

"I suppose I'd better...?" Harry began grumbling as he set his drink down and turned toward the door.

Jeff grabbed up his sleeve and cautioned. "You're not seriously going out there?"

Harry pulled a face at that. "Certainly not." he scoffed indignantly.

He summoned a twilight portal which, to Jeff's startled eyes, looked like he just threw open a window in the very fabric of the universe.

Harry poked his head through, causing Jeff to start sputtering incoherently as Harry's head just disappeared from his body.

Harry blew a shrill whistled and called out like he was summoning the family labador. "Heath Cliff- here boy?!"

Jeff staggered farther back at hearing the answering growl of something big- very big!

"There's a bit of a row out in the hall-HC. Chase off the red robed one would yah?"

Jeff heard what was unmistakable an affirmative snort and then the flagstone floor beneath his feet trembled ominously, soon followed by a tremendous roar that shook the walls and rained down dust and loose mortar from over head.

Harry pulled his head back into the room, from wherever, and clapped his hands together winningly announcing: "That's that," as he ushered, a still gapping , Jeff Taylor toward the door.

They breached the door just as shrieks of alarm from the other room, were followed by a hail of wand fire. The floor shook beneath them as a dragon scrambled past in a total panic, its ridged tail tucked firmly between its legs.

"**YIPE-YIPE-YIPE!"**

"Ya great coward!" Harry called after it disgustedly.

With a withering sigh, Harry made his way back with Jeff Taylor in tow.

Jeff's head was still pivoting back and forth between Harry and pointing back the way they'd come as he still tried to wrap his head around the notion that his friend had a dragon for a pet.

Harry entered the room to find Luna, tucked safely behind a suit of armor. She was giggling madly one moment and applauding the next as hexes were exchanged by the room's combatants once again.

Hermione was perched behind a large leather recliner flinging curses first one way and then the other as the two Taylor women returned fire from behind each end of the sofa in flanking positions.

Hermione's hair was more frizzled than it had ever been in her youth and her makeup, not that he'd even noticed she was wearing any before, was exaggerated to the extreme.

He smirked realizing that one of Gail's 'beauty busters' must have landed.

Gail and Julia looked no better off as their formerly immaculate clothing and appearance were shamefully disheveled.

Each was spitting and hissing furiously as they returned spell after spell.

Much to his chagrin, he had to admit that Hermione hadn't lost her touch. She was proving herself more than a match for the not inconsiderable talents and power of the Taylor women.

"Alright,.. that's enough!" Harry demanded a cessation of hostilities as he stepped into the room.

The command had barely left his lips when a hail of wand fire crackled through the air his way as all three had now turned their wrath on the common denominator to their subsequent problems.

"Jessuss!" Jeff Taylor barked in alarm as he hit the deck to avoid friendly fire. Not that he was considered wholly innocent at this point either.

Harry for his point just yawned and opened a portal in front of himself. The three curses streaked into the portal and Harry was just about to relinquish it when a scream erupted from inside the twilight realm.

"ARGHHH!"

"R-Ron?!" Hermione shrieked, forgetting present circumstances, and subconsciously rose up from her spot and moved toward the portal.

An innocently surprised Harry stuck his head into the portal calling back in relief... "So **that's** where he is." After a slight paused he mused. "Hmm,.. he looks a bit ill used?"

"Harry James Potter you return my husband this instant." Hermione raged toward Harry's backside.

Harry popped his head back in and shifted his gaze between the portal and Hermione's fuming person.

Luna had resumed her position on the _now_ smoldering couch watching the drama unfold with eager anticipation as she was poised with quill and parchment in hand to gather notes.

The Taylor women were warily emerging from behind the couch, curious as to this new development.

Gail shot a questioning glance her husband's way, who just shrugged helplessly, just as baffled as they were.

"You sure?" Harry asked reluctantly of Hermione. "He doesn't look like he cares either way just now? Looks a bit traumatized, he does." Harry ventured.

Hermione stamped her foot angrily before bursting into tears.

"Oh alright." He groused. He was always rubbish with crying women.

Harry widened the portal stepped inside than closed the gaping hole behind himself. The others had barely registered their shock when another hole opened and Harry stepped into the room dragging a torn, bleeding and catatonic appearing, Ron Weasley, into the room.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked in relief, lunging for her husband.

Harry conjured another portal behind Ron and Hermione's momentum sent them both tumbling in before she could halt her forward progress.

"Have a nice trip- see ya in the fall!" Harry called into the portal which snapped close with a satisfied 'crack'.

He was dusting his hands off as he turned to find every set of eyes in the room gapping at the spectacle in absolute shock.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"H-How... where... d-did they...?" Gail was stammering and pointing stupidly in the direction where the portal had been only moments before.

He shrugged noncommittally offering.. "They looked as if they could both use a bit of time away to rest and reflect. She needs to learn patience and he just plain out needs to learn. "

"But where?" Jeff asked dumfounded still gapping himself.

"And spoil the surprise?" Harry groused winking towards a giggling Luna, who was obviously still quite amused by tonight's events.

She had risen from her couch, pocketing her notes as she stepped toward him. Sidestepping the stunned family, she kissed Harry affectionately on the cheek and murmured, "It's good to have you home."

She waved toward the others, who didn't even hardly register the fact, and saw herself out without a backward glance.

"Same old Luna." Harry mumbled affectionately glancing after her retreating form, before thinking better of it and calling after... "Send Neville my love and tell him to floo some night so we can go for a pint and catch up?"

"Well of course I will, silly..." Luna called back incredulously.

Julia had been staring daggers at Luna's back after she's kissed Harry, friendly peck on the cheek that it was. At the mention of Neville, obviously her significant other, Julia's eyes softened dramatically. She drank in his appearance. He hadn't changed so much, except that he no longer wore his colored lenses so that his vibrant green eyes shown beneath his natural jet black hair.

Other than that.. he was Jamie, once 'her Jamie', for perhaps the briefest of moments though she had planned and hoped it would be for a life time. That was before Light Strike tried to exploit him and found themselves instead, embroiled in a war that they were losing terribly, if not having already lost.

According to her father, they were all but ruined and deservedly so.

She had known, as they all did, that Jamie was incredibly talented with enormous power to match, but this?

She couldn't believe she was standing in this legendary castle. Well, that she could believe. What was beyond belief was that he'd somehow rested control of the landmark and now it was his home.

But the eccentricities didn't end there as parked next to the castle was the entire Light Strike-One facility; in and of itself just as enormous and as rumored to be impregnable as the castle the now stood within.

Jamie had always displayed a penchant for disproving the unbelievable, but never on this scale.

All these thoughts and more ran through Julia's mind not that she paid them any individual attention, that was reserved for the man standing just a few feet away.

He was more gorgeous than she remembered and she remembered quite well.

Gail stood staring at the object of many night's tear filled discussions with her eldest daughter as she poured her heart out for what _almost was_ before Light Strike had cruelly robbed the both of their chance.

So profound and overwhelming was the hole that he had left in not only Julia's but all their lives that she had gone even so far as to beg her husband to embrace the search, along with Light Strike, in ascertaining his whereabouts.

Of course, Jeff had adamantly refused, for which she both admired and detested his fortitude in doing what was right, not what was easy.

He was a rare man, her husband, but rarer still was the man standing before them as only he had proved worthy of winning their eldest daughter's heart away from her father.

They'd both known it would happen one day, as all parents both hope and dread, but they'd also known that it would have to be someone very special.

Special didn't cover it. Not from where she stood. As much as she rejoiced to find him now, and seemingly still _him_, the Jamie they'd known and loved. Still, there were changes if one knew where to look.

Other than the minor cosmetic changes of letting his natural hair and eye color hold sway, it was the way that he carried himself that was so alarmingly –not Jamie.

Part of it, she knew, was merely window dressing, but part wasn't. It was the part that wasn't that was so alarming.

The window dressing was the carefree, albeit eccentric persona he wore. The part that was all too notably real was what any fool with half a brain could deduce; that the most dangerous man in the world was not more than a few feet away.

He'd been wronged and pushed to the breaking point, and now, as evidenced by the abandoned facility outside and the castle they know stood within, he was pushing back.

As mind boggling as all that was, his smile came readily to his lips and lit up his eyes in a way that he hadn't shown before, except in that moment he'd picked up Julia for their first date.

She wasn't a fool and neither was her daughter. Whether he knew it or not, he was looking at all of them, especially Julia, in that same way he had before.

Her heart soared in the knowledge that they'd not just found Harry Potter, but they'd found... _their Jamie_.

Jeffrey Taylor scrutinized his once subordinate, and rival for his daughter's affections, with a practiced eye. Gone was the young warrior that had proven himself an invaluable asset to Light Strike. In his place stood something the world had rarely seen... a battle mage.

And not just any battle mage, for if the intelligence that Light Strike had gathered was correct; Harry Potter, aka Jamie Harrison, was a _shadow mage_.

Little if anything was known regarding _shadow mages_ as they were so rarely occurring even within the vast uniqueness of the magical world. No books or manuals delineated their abilities.

Hell, some even argued that it was no more than a ridiculous myth or a fable to frighten children like the bogeyman.

All they really knew for sure, from personal experience, was that Jamie could teleport anywhere within the shadow of night at roughly the speed of thought.

For that alone they deemed him _potentially_ a living –breathing **shadow mage**.

Whether he was or not, mattered little. What mattered was that he was incredible powerful and that his former superiors had pissed him off-**royally**.

Men like Jamie were not easily angered, but once done...whoa.

This castle and the facility outside were but pale testimony to what he was capable of which he knew was primarily the reasoning behind this auspicious display.

It was a great big warning sign of- NO TRESPASSING!

It hadn't taken long before the papers in the states had been filled with Jamie's picture on every cover once Light Strike-One had registered as the first casualty of what should have proven a ridiculous war.

Had anyone, anyone, told him that one man could singlehandedly bring Light Strike to its knees he would have laughed himself into unconsciousness.

Now he was standing here staring at the naked proof and he still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

When Jamie had come out into the open as Harry Potter, sequestering himself here at Hogwarts Castle, of all places, he known it wouldn't be long before majority rule in his household would force the issue and they'd come here to see what they could see.

He knew what his daughter hoped for. What he and his wife prayed for and what his younger children cried for, but what he didn't know was where all of this was going to end.

Six months ago he would have assumed that Jamie Harrison would have ended up in chains despite all the seemingly best intentions Light Strike professed to the contrary. Now, he wasn't so sure that Jamie wouldn't end up the ruler of the magical world, as ludicrous as that sounded.

He had no allusions that Jamie would go dark... the man just wasn't wired that way. What he didn't know was how far Jamie was going to push back against his oppressors.

He had all but destroyed one of the world's premiere anti-terrorist task forces without taking a single life. The same could be said for what he'd wrought thus far in the British Isles. The question was,.. would he continue along that vein? Would exacting his vengeance be enough? Would anything short of world war be enough?

These thought all raced through the back of his mind and he had to admit he was ashamed for even having them.

Ashamed because standing before him was the man they had hoped to find. They'd hope to reach out to Harry Potter. To find some way of entreating him to abandon this madness before lives were lost, but they had instead found their fears largely unjustified as not Harry Potter, but _Jamie _was waiting for them.

Whatever he'd done to Hermione Granger-Weasley, while alarming on the surface, he knew was just more window dressing.

She was no more harmed than anyone else thus far.

He could tell by the glint in his friend's eye and the easy smile that came to his lips that he was thoroughly enjoying himself as he'd rarely done before.

Jamie was working through some agenda and whatever it was... it was , like the man, _something special._

Whilst the three friends and once potential family pondered what to do or say to break the ice now that it was just them,.. Jaime took the initiative.

"So,... what's new?"


	15. Chapter 15: Overdue changes

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry potter characters.

**Chapter Fifteen: Overdue changes**

"What're you doing? Do you even have any idea of what you're doing?"

Harry paused to examine the glass within his hand before answering in a puzzled tone. "I'm having a drink?"

Gail rolled her eyes at that whilst her husband, (who wasn't helping matters), stifled a snort of a laugh in appreciation, earning himself a glare from his irate wife.

Despite the circumstances, it wasn't lost upon the parents that Jamie and Julia's eyes continually found one another since the time all distraction were dispensed with, ie.. the distraction in question being one Hermione Weasley.

He drank in every nuance of her appearance; the way her light blonde hair floated on a nonexistent breeze, her gentle features highlighted to perfection by the deep bronze tan of her complexion, the way her snug fitting light blue jeans molded themselves to the gentle curve of her hips. All that was certainly pleasant to be sure, but to top it off she wore a pale blue undershirt beneath an open antique white sweater that was all too familiar.

He didn't want to presume anything in the present climate, but why was she purposely wearing the sweater he'd bought for her on their first date in Paris?

Julia's eyes flowed like water over Jamie. Gone were all pretenses that he was anything or anyone but Harry James Potter. His raven black hair was cut boldly short to prominently display the famous lightning bolt shaped scar on his right forehead, over green eyes that glowed with knowledge and power,... a lot of power.

She shuttered slightly at that, more afraid for him than from him.

Despite the window dressing he was ... _Jamie_. A soft easy smile was on his lips that instantly turned to a knowing smirk as he antagonized her mother for the pure pleasure of having her rail at him in return.

He wore a dark green Henley that accentuated his lean, yet tightly muscled physique that tapered down to black jeans with dark green dragon hide boots that matched the color of his shirt.

Everything was the same except it wasn't? There was this hard edge to him, just under the surface. It was very subtle, but it was there if one knew him, really knew him.

She realized in that instant that she had found not just Jamie, or even Harry Potter, but something else entirely. It was that something else that both intrigued her and gave her pause.

Julia knew from what stories her father was allowed to relay from work that the men and women of Light Strike were the best of the best field operatives the world over.

Simply put.. they were dangerous, very dangerous individuals.

She knew that what she was seeing was some glimpse of that aspect she was seeing now. She also knew that of those referred to as the "best of the best" paled in comparison to someone who gave that term a whole new meaning.

It wasn't unexpected, nor even unappreciated, but really,... all they had really hoped to find was him still breathing.

As much as she had been enjoying the silent interplay between the two, Gail Taylor eventually lost her patience and grabbed the prop from his hand announcing..

"You've had quite enough of that!" to which she vanished the contents of his glass with a quick flick of her wand.

"Hey, that's a hundred year old single malt!" He complained in a regretful tone.

"It is?" Jeff murmured appreciatively, resuming sipping from his own glass with something akin to reverence now.

Julia snorted at that, which re-attracted Jamie's attention though it had hardly strayed from her immediate vicinity in the first place.

Gail snapped her fingers in front of Jamie's distracted eyes getting his attention as she grumbled to her daughter, "Not helping.."

Julia shrugged unapologetically with a light chuckle as she ran a hand through her tresses, thrilling that the seemingly nonchalant gesture held him further captivated.

Gail sighed impatiently before rounding on her father to "Do something?"

Jeff nodded in authority and proceeded to pour himself another drink and saluted the two, to which his wife rolled her eyes huffing under her breath as her daughter giggled.

_Did her nose always crinkle up like that when she giggled? _He pondered. The spell broke at the sound of crystal clinking.

"Hey?" Jamie barked in outrage. "Go easy until I can find out where Dumbledore got the stuff from so I can resupply?" he groused at Jeff.

"Don't worry about it. I've got a line on cognac that's to die for. They sell it in a little shop on the outskirts of Paris." He soothed promisingly.

"Well, alright then... let's go." Jamie clapped his hands together and rubbing them appreciatively, instantly cottoning to the idea.

"Really ?" Jeff gasped hopefully, dropping his glass back down on the service bar as he twisted about searching for his coat.

"The shops should still be open for another hour, if we hurry?" Jamie informed, glancing at his watch.

"Wha... you're not going to France? If you think you're running off to Paris without me than you've got another..." Gail berated as Jamie opened a portal and pulled his friend through as he was struggling into his coat.

"Of all the nerve?!" Gail spat when the portal closed and the two disappeared from view.

All of the sudden the portal reopened. Her wrath soothed at seeing her husband's arm begin to emerge as she grabbed for her own coat.

"That's better... I thought you'd left without me for a minute there?" She began to lament as she pulled on her own coat.

Jeff's hand grabbed the drink, he'd previously held, off the serving bar and disappeared back into the portal that closed with a 'snap' of finality.

Gail stomped her foot impotently with a shriek of frustration, her daughter giggling all the while over the entire spectacle.

It was funny, he'd pay for it later in spades, but it was funny just the same.

* * *

><p><strong>Several hours later...<strong>

A portal winked into existence within the candle lit room. It would have been barely discernible if one hadn't been specifically looking for it.

"Shhh...Shhh... don't wanna wake anyone up-p?" Jamie slurred drunkenly as he staggered into the room from seemingly out of nowhere.

"It's about time...?" A harsh voice snarled, catching him off guard.

Jamie spun around to the sound of the voice to find himself subdued beneath the scrutiny of an enraged Gail Taylor.

Julia was stifling a yawn as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and rose from one of the room's more comfortable sofas.

"Er,.. um.. H-Hi." He hiccupped sheepishly, quailing under her angry gaze.

"Where is he?" Gail growled menacingly.

"J-Jeff?" Jamie questioned innocently.

Julia giggled at that, though her mother chose to ignore it despite the appreciative grin it elicited from the object of her wrath.

"No, Dumbledore." Gail corrected. "Of course I mean, Jeff, you dolt."

Jamie shrugged helplessly. "You m-mean he's not back yet?"

Gail's eyebrow drew together as she scowled her displeasure and nodded pointedly that the game was over.

With a sigh of defeat, Jamie opened a portal and stuck his head in. "Dude,the wife's still up." he hissed inside pointedly to his stalling counterpart .

"Er... oh, boy,... um...tell her I went back to the hotel hours ago looking for her." Jeff's muffled voice came back conspiratorially.

Gail's' mouth dropped open in outrage as her daughter fell off the couch in side splitting laughter.

Jamie poked his head back out of the portal, noting that Julia reminded him of Luna just then.

Gail pushed him out of the way and undaunted,... she reached into the unknown grousing as she did. "That'll be enough of that, Jeffrey!"

Her hand came back into view, pulling with it a cowed and whinny, Jeffrey Taylor, by his ear.

He was mewling apologies as Gail dragged him from the room grumbling threats of what she was going to do to him once they were alone.

Ever helpful, Jamie called out: "You can use one of the guest rooms just off of the kitchen. They've got excellent silencing charms."

Pleased that his quests seemed to be availing themselves of his hospitality, as Gail veered in the direction indicated, he slumped into the couch watching interestedly as Julia tried and failed to stop laughing at her parent's antics.

Once she regained some semblance of composure and subsequently, her seat; Julia brushed her hair back over one shoulder and turned asking.. "Did you and dad have a good time at least?"

Jamie nodded. "It was nice catching up." He suddenly seemed far more sober than he had mere seconds ago.

"You could've taken us with you?" It was so much a question as a complaint.

It was a bit before he answered uncertainly. "No,.. I don't think that would've been such a good idea?"

Julia pulled a face at that. "Why not?" she began innocently.

Suddenly a notion occurred to her that she hadn't contemplated before..."Y-You're not seeing anyone are you?" she asked in a tremulous voice that surprised him with the obvious hint of regret it carried.

"Me?..you're the one...?" he started to counter in surprise before , failing that, he asked instead "Why are you here?"

"To see you, of course." Julia returned with a roll of the eyes displaying the incredulousness she felt at that question.

"No,.. I mean **you**. Why are **you** here?" he clarified.

"Same answer." She returned abruptly. "Now, answer my question. Are you seeing someone?"she pressed impatiently, though there was a worried undertone that he found surprising given the current state of things.

"Why should that matter, you're the one whose...?"

"Me?" Julia nearly shrieked instantly lowering her voice and casting her eyes apprehensively the way her parents had left.

In a lowered voice she imparted. "I haven't seen anyone since..."

"Right,.. and I suppose the person you've been sleeping with is the new family pet?" he interrupted incredulously.

Julia's eyes went wide in alarm before she puzzled out his meaning and they narrowed angrily.

"I see that Light Strike's not the only one who's been keeping tabs on me?" she assumed waspishly.

His eyebrows went up in surprise initially before he defended.. "I only checked up on the family once or twice to make sure that Jeff was home and not in the line of fire. I can't help that all of your heat signatures registered when I checked the house. It doesn't matter, it's not like I have anything to blame you for doing, let alone the right to complain in the first place."

With a hurt expression that further puzzled him she turned half heartedly away brushing at a moist eye.

"S-So you are seeing s-someone, then?" she wrongfully assumed in a tremulous voice.

"er, um,..no,..." he was surprised by how quickly she seemed to brighten at that as she turned back with a hopeful gasp before he amended... "but.. I was starting to contemplate dating again though I don't expect any of the witches around here would be interested in me for any other reason than the whole celebrity thing." He answered truthfully albeit sheepishly.

Julia quirked a half smile at that chiding.. "I imagine there's been a lot of interest of late? Including some old, **married **acquaintances?" The sarcasm in that anything, but innocent question was not lost on him.

"She was just looking for her misplaced prat of a spouse and besides; Luna was here the whole time and... and I don't know why I need to explain myself to you in the first place?" he returned like for like.

"Really?" Julia drawled right back. "If you broke things off with me than I never got the memo or do you always flee town, like some coward, rather than break things off properly?" She hovered over him laying it on in a fashion reminiscent of her mother.

"I never wanted to break things off not that they'd barely even started." He defended meekly, sinking back into the cushions of the couch trying to get some personal distance between them as she loomed ever closer.

_Merlin, did she always smell like that?_

"I'm glad to hear you say that, it took you long enough." Julia groused huskily as she leaned in and captured his lips hungrily.

It seemed only scant moments, though it could have been hours, before his brain finally kicked in and he broke off the kiss.

Her whimper at the loss of contact almost pushed him over the edge as he leaned back toward her mouth.

"N..No,...no,.. I can't..." he pulled back at the last instant, just barely brushing her lips with his own.

Anxiously he explain. "I ..I can't, not when you're seeing someone else? Y-you're even sleeping with him!" He accused pointedly.

Julia's chuckled breathlessly in understanding at that as she shook her head and uttered. "Doppelganger"

"D-Doppelganger?" Harry struggled to ask his eyes glued to her moist lips that were parted so tantalizingly close that he could feel her moist breath on his face.

"A doppelganger spell." Julia reiterated, smiling gently. "The only person I've been sleeping with is myself."

"Huh?"

Julia shook her head and gasped in resignation as she explained. "My father figured that if Light Strike knew how close you and I were becoming..." she paused and searched his eyes, asking to reassure herself, "We were becoming close, weren't we?" she asked in a small voice.

He nodded.

Relieved, she continued explaining. "If Light Strike knew that we were close they might try and use me to draw you out. They're so obsessed with you that even an officer's family isn't safe. Anyway, dad cast a _doppelganger spell_ on me at night so that it would appear that I was sleeping with another person. Unless you were right in the room you could never tell that it wasn't someone else. Most would just check heat signatures not bother with anything more in depth let alone make visual confirmation. Dad figured that if Light Strike assumed I was already sleeping with someone else, that we couldn't have been even remotely serious about each other in the first place, ie,.. they'd not bother with me."

"That's brilliant." he complimented.

"Dad has his moments." she gave credit where due.

"S-So.. you're not seeing anyone?" he whispered hopefully.

Julia shook her head tantalizingly her eyes drifting shut as she did so.

Her lips were already parted and she didn't have to wait more than a microsecond before they found company.

His hands brushed over her ears and ghosted into her silky tresses, pulling her deeper into the kiss.

Julia moaned low in her throat as their tongues toyed and teased one another.

God how she wanted this, needed this. She didn't care if he was taking on the whole world so long as he was hers.

She couldn't know how right she was in that moment.

* * *

><p>"Ugh,...my head... Do you have to make so much noise?" Jeff grumbled, sipping gingerly at his second cup of coffee as Harry clanged merrily away, working at the stove.<p>

"Sorry" his returned sounding anything but as he continued even more noisily than previous.

"How can you be so chipper after last night?" He groaned in outrage at Harry's merry demeanor.

"Trade secret courtesy of a charming bloke named Sirius Black." Harry credited his dead godfather.

"How about letting someone else in on it?" Jeff whined.

"Sorry, no can do. It's a marauder's secret." He returned wistfully as the bacon on the griddle crackled in the background.

"Marauder? ,.. are you a marauder like your father and his friends were?"

Harry tipped his cup of coffee in salute to affirm the answer.

"So what's you animagus form then, that is a requirement, isn't it?" Gail asked curiously.

Harry just smirked in answer.

"You're not gonna tell us, are you?" Gail huffed disappointedly.

Harry shook his head, his smile broadening at her disappointment.

"Please Gail, honey..." he begged using her pet name. "Just a dose or two of hangover remedy to take the edge off?"

"It serves you right." Gail berated her husband's sorry state. "Leaving me here while you go off traipsing around Paris when you haven't taken me anywhere, let alone Paris, in the twenty-six years we've been married."

"My h-head's killing me." The poor man whined dejectedly, seeking his wife's sympathy.

"If it doesn't, I will." she threatened.

Julia snickered at that.

"Here it is, hot off the griddle." Harry announced dishing out a generous helping of fluffy scrambled eggs and perfectly browned sausage links.

"Urp!" Jeff gagged at seeing and getting a whiff of the food placed in front of him.

"Sorry..." Harry apologized pulling away his plate.

Jeff immediately sighed in relief, that was, until Harry replaced his plate and doled out

"Maybe some nice crisp kippers will hit the spot?"

"Urg..Gaaa" Jeff lurched away from the table stumbling toward the bathroom as the rest of the table laughed uproariously at his reaction.

Gail, Jamie and Julia ate their meal almost silently although every once in a while Gail had to stifle a light chuckle at seeing the furtive looks the two exchanged when they thought she wasn't looking.

"Did something happen last night?" she assumed innocently.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing"

They both tried to feign ignorance at the same time, putting the lie to their efforts and eliciting another chuckle from Gail.

Gail snorted at that as the two colored embarrassed.

"Anything your father and I should know?" she pressed, enjoying their discomfort.

She was rewarded with the simultaneous alarmed responses of : "No" from her daughter and "not really" from Harry.

Gail chuckled in amusement. "Is it true that they have the most exquisite dress makers in Paris?" Gail changed tact, addressing their host.

Her daughter looked up in surprise as Harry answered. "They do." He confirmed. "They've got the best designers the world over. Evening gowns, casual, formal, whatever you're looking for you can find it there and if not they'll tailor to your specifications. What'd you have in mind?" he suggested helpfully.

"I was thinking wedding gowns." she pounced.

"Achh... gaaa..." Harry choked and gagged on his coffee whilst Julia berated her mother as she clapped him on the back.

"Mother really!" she growled indignantly, her face as crimson as Harry's for want of air.

Once breakfast was finished and by that I mean Harry was breathing normally again and both parties warily watched Gail Taylor; bracing themselves for another dig as they picked at their food.

The dishes were charmed clean and returned to their cupboards before he announced that it was time to ... "Feed Heath Cliff."

At that, he rolled an immense steel bowl out, from a nearby closet, to the Great Hall and proceeded to fill it with fifty pound bag upon fifty pound bag of 'Purina Dragon Chow' until the bowl was filled to heaping over the sides.

Gail and Julia watched in amusement as he conjured a triangle and a striking rod which he used to clang the triangle as he yelled out: "Come and get it!"

The floor beneath their feet shook as Heath Cliff came rumbling up the granite stair from the dungeons beneath the castle.

In answer to their startled looks, Harry shrugged offering, "I could think of no more fitting use for the Slytherin commons then for Heath Cliff's lair, especially as he's not exactly house trained just yet, but.. we're working on it."

Heath Cliff lumbered to his bowl which he sniffed at dubiously before taking a small bite of the fist sized kibble. He immediately snorted his displeasure, turning his horned head away in disgust.

"Oh, you're too proud are you?" Harry quipped, as his female visitors laughed at their antics.

"Thaff, thissss-**pooo**" The dragon hissed his displeasure.

"Whadaya mean it tastes like shite?"

Gail snorted at that.

"Don't encourage him." Harry groused at her before turning his attention back to the dragon.

He plucked up one of the empty bags littering the floor and perused the ingredients list.

"The bag says it's all natural made with ocean fish, beef and poultry products. Hmm,.." he paused to continue reading before adding,.." it says it's loaded with vitamins and minerals with special anti-oxidants added to promote healthy urinary function..."

His reading was interrupted by Heath Cliff making, what was unmistakably, a loud wet raspberry with his forked tongue.

The ladies laughed uproariously at that.

He cast them a glare before rounding on his familiar. "Well what do you want then?"

"Toooos-pyyyyth" the dragon hissed eagerly.

"A virgin!" Harry barked in outrage, the female contingent was wiping tears of laughter from their eyes as he shook his finger at the dragon and lectured.

"You've been watching those old movies on the telly again, haven't you? A virgin indeed?" He complained. "There hasn't even been a virgin around here since Argus Filch and believe me there was nothing even remotely appetizing about that squib."

"Gurrrfff?" the dragon countered disappointedly.

"Chicken? Do you know how man chickens it would take to fill that up?" Harry chided incredulously, toeing the Dragon's belly where it rested on the flagstones.

"Zssssterrrr" The dragon answered.

"Only twenty?" Harry asked skeptically, eyeing the beast.

The dragon nodded, its long spiny neck bobbed its head almost to the ceiling of the Hall.

"Oh,.. alright." He relented, disappearing abruptly into a portal he'd conjured.

The dragon lowered its head toward the two women still giggling at their interaction.

Julia's worried tug on her mother's arm caught Gail's attention as she turned to find herself nose to snout with the immense beast.

"Oh,.. um,...H-Hi." she stammered.

She was saved further discomfort at Harry's announcing..."Here you go... twenty whole chickens."

With that he placed four buckets of Kentucky fried chicken at the Dragon's talons.

"Kifff-purrrr" The dragon inquired hopefully sniffing hungrily at the cardboard buckets.

"Sorry mate, they were out of extra crispy." he apologized.

With a growl of displeasure, Heath Cliff snapped up the lot in one great slurp, belched a spurt of flame and trotted off back to his dungeon lair without a backward glance.

"Ingrate" Harry called after in disgust.

Harry walked off grumbling... "I could have gotten a griffin, but no, I had to listen to that shady shopkeeper's spiel about how loyal and useful dragon's are. Hmmpff,.. 'spoiled and useless' more like? Can't even find a newspaper big enough to properly house train the great git... Always dragging dead things home to play with... "

The two women just laughed hysterically at his retreating form.

* * *

><p><strong>Later that day...<strong>

"I'd like five galleons of 'chocolate volcano' please?" he asked the teller at Fontesque's ice cream parlor.

"You having a party?" The young lady asked curiously, batting her eyes as she undoubtedly was hoping for an invitation.

"I wish." Harry sighed, before explaining. "It's for my ride."

Puzzled, the girl just heaved over a five galleon pail of the indicated ice cream and took his coin without further comment, righting his comment off as just another quirk of celebrities.

Harry dumped the pail at Heath Cliff's feet grumbling, "Here ya go and don't get it all over like the last time. The stuff melts fast enough without having scorching breath."

"Pittthhh-taaaa"

"Don't be mental; they don't have a cone big enough to hold a scoop that big." Harry groused throwing up his hands in exasperation and stomping off toward Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes before the crowd forming closed them in.

He entered the garish shop falling back against the door frame with a sigh of relief.

"Nasty sort out there?" A familiar voice inquired before his twin echoed, "Nasty sort in here too." to which they both chuckled at their own joke.

"Hi ya, guys" Harry called happily stepping up to the counter. "How's business?"

"Booming, now that Voldie's bought it, thanks for that by the by." George cheered gratefully.

"It was my pleasure." Harry accepted , smirking at the memory of Voldie's last word.

"Did he really say "Oh, shite! At that last?" Fred asked skeptically.

Harry nodded. "Said it, I think he did it." They all chuckled at that.

"Dad said you parked his head on his desk with a bill stapled to his forehead?"

Harry nodded.

"Inspired that" George complimented.

"Artwork" Fred agreed.

"See,.. that's what I thought, but everyone's had their panties in a twist ever since?" Harry complained in a baffled tone.

_People just don't appreciate._

The twins nodded their understanding before one asked dutifully,(purely for their mother's sake)... "Ron and Hermione?"

"What about them?"

"Seen them lately?"

"Can you describe them?" Harry snorted, taking an appreciative leaf out of Luna's page.

"Gangly red headed git with a chip on his shoulder and a _Percy_ complex." Fred offered.

"The other's a book worm gone bad with text book narcissism." George followed.

"Ohhh,... them." Harry drawled in recognition. "Quite the pair that. Last I saw they were _wandering in darkness._" Harry relayed with a churlish grin.

Both twins smirked at that.

"Any chance they'll wander home and retrieve their kids anytime soon?" Fred asked off handily.

"Missing them already?' Harry asked in genuine surprise.

"Nah, mum loves having the kids as much as they love being there. It's the only time Hermione's not drumming some fact or other into their tiny brains whilst stuffing them with healthy, sugar-free snacks." George shuddered in revulsion at that, his twin equally pale.

"Sounds like you've got the makings of another dark lord on your hands?" Harry quipped.

"Good thing you're here then." Fred agreed.

"I do what I can." Harry replied airily as he considered his fingernails.

All pretenses aside; the twins hurdled the counter and grabbed him up in a rib cracking three way hug, welcoming him home.

Fred and George had always stood by him over the years. Most of the family had been wrong back then as well as now and they were very vociferous about reminding them so.

Their parents were openly remorseful since that hearing, but Hermione, Ron and especially Ginny...?

"Sorry about your brother and brother in-law." Harry stated dutifully, no regret in it.

"Don't be" they reassured as one.

"Cowardly wankers the both of them." George accused in disgust.

"Not Draco, though." Fred reminded his twin.

"At least not at the end" George agreed, laughing regarding Draco's _emasculating_ via 'flash grenade'.

They all laughed at that.

"Again,.. inspired."

"Artwork" his twin agreed.

"Purely an accident, believe it or not?" Harry clarified.

"A good one then." George complimented.

"Can't believe that Ginny actually bred with the ferret?" Fred pulled a face at that.

They all shuddered at the mental image.

"Had a little _ponce_ like his dad and a _princess _just like her mum." George added in a disgusted tone.

"Serves her right." They all chorused as one, laughing in relief.

After a cleansing pause, George asked the reason for Harry's visit. "Not that we don't appreciate the distraction and as you're our _partner_ .." he added pointedly with Fred nodding his agreement, " but to what do we the pleasure of so auspicious a visitor today?"

Harry smiled painfully, a fact they noted and braced themselves for. "I had a , er,.._visit _recently from a large contingent of Light Strike field operatives, they were, ah,.. less than cordial. That in and of itself isn't surprising, what is and, not in a good way, is that they tried to apprehend me under the knowledge and endorsement of the British Magical Ministry."

"Uh-Oh..." George sighed worriedly.

"Dad..." Fred gasped echoing his twin's discomfort.

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry guys, but I can't let this slide. Its one thing to badger and beleaguer me over the whole Moldiewart fiasco, but it's another thing to condone persecution and extortion. Frankly,.. I'm surprised your father was privy to this, let alone went along with it?"

He expressed his opinion both reluctantly and emphatically, for which the twins were grateful. They knew this wasn't so much a _vengeance_ thing as a settling of affairs.

"I'm surprised/ me too?" they both added, puzzled that their father would be a party to harassing Harry, regardless of the issues between him and Ron/Hermione.

"I just wanted to give you two a head's up before I settle my affairs."

The twins shared a pointed look at that, George took the initiative and asked, "By _settle affairs _You don't mean that our dad is suddenly and inexplicably going to disappear like Ron and Hermione did, do you?"

Harry pulled a face, but answered truthfully that... "I can't promise anything, other than I'm tired of being shoved around and am going to continue pushing back until people get the message."

"What message is that?" Fred asked with no little apprehension.

"And should we worry that Ron's and Hermione's disappearance is a , er,.. _permanent_ thing?" George added, not so much worried for his brother and sister in-law, but for his father.

"Not permanent, no..." he returned vaguely, adding.. "but I'm of the opinion that they will be changed by life altering circumstances beyond their control." He finished with a devious smirk.

Two pairs of eyebrows shot up at that.

"What exactly did you do with them?" George pressed, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Let's just say they're in a **hell** of their own making and leave it at that." He offered with an indifferent shrug.

The twins shared another look before Fred gulped nervously and asked, "And the message?"

Harry smiled a cold smile of promised mayhem that never touched his eyes. "The message is simple: I'm not to be trifled with."

George smirked asking in clarification. "I'm guess that's a pleasant, politically correct way of essentially saying..Don 't Fu** with Harry Potter?"

Harry smiled appreciatively. "You've been paying attention."

"Apparently dad hasn't?" Fred sighed disappointedly.

Harry grasped their shoulders bracingly. He was pleased to note that neither flinched in trepidation at contact with him as many were want to do. Their trust in him was appreciated more than words could express.

"You're father's not a bad man, just misguided or perhaps even pressured into a place he doesn't want to be? I'm only going to simplify things for him so that there are no further misunderstandings between us." At this Harry grinned deviously.

The twins shared a look of both pleasure and appreciation at that. They knew an artist when they saw one.

"Can we help?" George offered hopefully.

Harry pursed his lips in consideration. "Tempting, but no. I don't want the ministry left in ashes."

They all shared a laugh at that.

They engaged in a few minutes of lighter conversation before Harry took his leave, promising that they'd get together soon to catch up properly.

He left the twin's shop and planning to go straight to Gringott's, he stopped in his tracks at finding his familiar acting as a teeter-totter for a bevy of children who were cheering and screeching delightedly as Heath Cliff rocked them to and fro using his long ridged tail as a fulcrum.

He shook his head at his familiar's antics conceding that the dragon probably was the wiser of the two of them as he fought off a pang of regret at ousting the children from their Hogwart's home.

It was a necessary hardship but a regrettable one all the same. He planned to make it up to them as they were innocents in all of this, but those plans were down the road. Still, one could enjoy the moment.

With that thought he discreetly summoned a portal and made a quick trip to Honeydukes.

Minutes later a portal opened up in the air some fifty meters over the Dragon centered playground below.

Harry applied cushioning and lightening charms to his cargo before he dumped the contents of many bags and boxes of Honeydukes sweets over the squealing crowd below.

What child didn't dream of it raining candy?

That done, and Honeydukes closed for the day to restock; Harry proceeded to Gringott's, his journey made easier as the crowd was otherwise preoccupied across the square.

_Strange that?_

He entered the goblin run bang noting that many beady black eyes surveyed his progress through the bank with more than passing, if not wary, interest.

He stopped at the first open teller and asked to see "Raynock".

The goblin startled at that. "The director,.. certainly not. Perhaps I can assist you..Sir?" he offered that last begrudgingly.

"I speak to the master, not his lackeys. Does a dog bandy words with its fleas?" he drawled, intentionally angering the little penny pincher.

"N-Now see here..." The goblin began irately puffing himself up to his full height of roughly three feet.

"That will do, Fang Guard." A commanding voice interrupted.

All eyes turned toward the Director of Gringott's who unseen in the teller area for many, many years. Goblins within the management of Gringott's let alone the Director himself, never deigned to conduct business in such humble confines.

"If you will but accompany me, Lord Potter-Black?" the director asked with a courteousness that was shocking to his underlings.

Harry nodded politely and accompanied the director to his private office, flanked by two burley and enormously well armed guards with well worn and weathered weapons that bespoke many long hours of training and use.

Once seated and refreshments offered and politely declined, Raynock came directly to the point.

He'd known the moment Harry had entered the bank as security had been under strict orders to contact him immediately upon his arrival. Truthfully, he'd been expecting this meeting for many years, but especially so in the last several weeks for obvious reasons.

"How may Gringott's be of service today?" Raynock enquired.

Harry's hand slowly went to the breast pocket of his cloak, keeping a wary eye on the two guards flanking the room whose clawed hands tightened on their weapon's hilts as they tracked the movement of his reaching hand.

He withdrew a document that he passed over to Raynock.

The director perused the proffered document with a calculating eye before dropping it back unto his desk and asking pointedly.

"And if I refuse?"

Harry smiled cunningly at that. "Then I will break you. You and yours will be begging for coin in the street like common beggars within a fortnight."

The goblin smirked. "Really, sir, you overestimate your economical abilities? Whilst it is our understanding that you maintain a prestigious fortune within another, rival institution, it requires far more that mere wealth to garner our interest, let alone our respect." The goblin expressed in an unmistakably condescending tone.

Harry nodded his agreement. It was in the way that he did so that had the goblin's hackles rising warily.

"I am, Barclay's foremost account, as you so intriguingly surmise."

The goblin gulped somewhat nervously at that, offering by way of explanation. "We have made it our business to follow your wealth management as best we may."

"I am sure you do, or at least tired to. I am also the primary shareholder of both Barclay's and Swiss International as well as hold a majority vote within their managing board of directors."

The goblin's condescending smile abruptly vanished as his mind began calculating the importance of this information and what it portended for Gringotts in particular. One such institution they could counter, albeit with difficultly, but two such enormously powerful and diversified rivals...?

Harry went for the throat.

"If you do not comply with my request within the hour, Gringotts will be ruined by the **end** of business tomorrow." He stressed the **end** as being their own.

"S-surely we can come to some form of understanding, an.. an accommodation that would be mutually beneficial?" the director stalled his mind hurriedly running through possible scenarios that could counter an onslaught by two so formidable adversaries, discounting each in turn as his hand ghosted toward the button on the underside of his desk that would see security enter in a trice, eliminating any .. current difficulties."

Harry smiled a hard, cold smile as if reading his thoughts. "You'll be dead before they can breach the doors. Your blood will still be warm when the last blade falls from a lifeless goblin hand. Your wife and children will serve as my personal slaves before your are laid to rest, not that you'll find any in the afterlife as I'm sure Lily Potter and **company **eagerly await your arrival for the part you played in persecuting and robbing an orphan whose financial well being they entrusted to you."

Raynock's clawed hand came shakily back to the top of his desk. "W-Will agreeing to your terms settle matters satisfactorily between us? He asked hopefully in a far too nervous voice for one used to dictating terms not begging them.

Harry answered sarcastically. "Don't be absurd. This is but the first request of many, all of which you will eagerly agree to."

The goblins hairy ears wilted at that.

"Don't act so victimized, it sickens me in light of past experience. I've no wish to destroy you. If I did, not a scorched brick of this fine institution would still be standing and your carcass would be smoldering in the alley outside, stark testament to what happens when you wrong a Potter." he spat cruelly.

"G-Go on..?" the director implored in a defeated tone.

"Agree to my terms, all of my terms and one day hence... you may learn the benefit of dealing honestly with a Potter. Your wealth and prestige will grow and flourish the only difference is that it will be by honorable means."

The goblin's ears drifted up slightly in renewed hope, before Harry sent them crashing back down to his shoulders.

"First.. the deed I require as partial payment to the wealth you illegally seized from my accounts in correlation with Dumbledore's assistance. You will return it in its entirety along with damages incurred for lost interest and in penalty, say... twelve percent?"

"T-Twelve percent?!" The goblin gasped in shock.

"Hmm, you're right, that's far too lenient? Fifteen then."

Harry left the bank stepping considerably lighter than when he'd entered though he was now encumbered by a sizeable amount of added personal wealth than he'd had just an hour previously.

All to the good as the money was already earmarked for other more needful undertakings.

He paused to check on his familiar. Heath Cliff who was now roasting marshmallows with his superheated breath for a line of children the length of the square as they and their parents enjoyed the unique indulgence.

Harry chuckled appreciatively and made for his final destination. He was having trouble focusing at this point as he had other, more _unique indulgences_ of his own playing on his mind as he recalled the welcome news that the utterly enchanting Julia Taylor was still available and he'd been a presumptive and jealous fool.

He intended to make up for his short comings this evening and every evening thereafter, God willing.

* * *

><p>Harry entered the ministry seeming unobtrusively; at least he thought so, until all sound ceased and every eye in the room turned in his direction.<p>

He didn't know what he found more unsettling; the stares of utter shock and disbelief, the cries of alarm or the cheers of gratitude. The one thing he did find all too disappointingly expected was the contingent of serious faced aurors heading his way with wands drawn.

People cleared out of the way as a group of six aurors surrounded him and demanded that he: "come this way."

_Ah, such is the life of a celebrity._

He followed along quietly, not that he seemingly had much choice in the matter. Thoughtfully they led him to the person he was intending to visit anyway.

The marched him into Minister Weasley's office with little preamble, and a great deal of expectation by the minister's guard of sorts.

He was at least gratified to note that Arthur Weasley looked as uncomfortable with the situation as was likewise their intent for him.

"I apologize,(for the abrupt treatment), Harry, but given the current climate, this office felt it prudent to take extra precautions." Arthur began calmly, looking up from his desk with what appeared genuine remorse all things considered.

"Am I under arrest for some crime to which I am unaware as I've yet to be advised of my rights or the charges levied against me?"

"er... No, not as such?" Arthur sighed in resignation steep ling his hands upon his desk in a fashion reminiscent of Dumbledore to which I find the image repugnant.

Before he can organize his thoughts into some semblance of a generic political platitude I assume pointedly: "Then am I to assume that I'm being held illegally in direct violation of my civic rights as a private citizen?"

He ignores my statement and gets to business without preamble "Where are Ron and Hermione, Harry?"

"Answer my question first?" I demand.

Rather than a wand, a hand clamps down angrily around the back of my neck and heaves me unto tip toes as a hulking brute of an auror with lieutenant bars on his shoulder reminds me that.. "You are in no position to demand anything, little man. Answer the Minister before this gets ugly." He growls that last in warning, his voice promising me pain that he unthinkingly believes he can and will deliver.

_Big mistake_

One that, I see, has instantly registered in Arthur Weasley's eyes as he tried to both warn and reprimand in a single utterance that never has a chance to leave his lips.

I stiffen the fingers of the hand on the auror's side and drive them up to the second knuckle into the soft tissue of the fool's adam's apple. He drops to his knees, bulge eyed and gagging, which was his second mistake as it's now a simple matter to strike upward with the heel of my boot , relieving the idiot of consciousness as my heel connect with his chin.

_A pity that, I personally would have liked to watch him choke a bit more._

If I'm forced to err let it be for expedience sake as his companions seem unsettled by this turn of events.

It's not like they don't have it coming as, after all, they started this.

Idiot number two brandishes his wand my way with a stunner glowing at the tip. I flow like water, rolling into the man's arm and past his wand tip which discharges the stunner directly into the face of idiot number four.

I slam my head back into the face of two and am rewarded with the crunch of his nose breaking and a grunt of pain that is likewise too little enjoyed as I bring my heel up,(again), into this fool's groin.

_Interesting... there's that strange crunching sound again?_

I am, at least, rewarded with a high pitch squeal of agony for my efforts as I twist out of the path of a bone breaker from number four.

I guess the _kid gloves_ are off?

The light of the bone breaking curse is flying by as I continue my turn and fall into a side kick to the man's knee. He's so consumed with his mistaken belief that he hit me that he doesn't even register the kick until his ligaments are torn asunder. The man drops screaming, his finishing hex blasting a hole in the plaster ceiling the residue falling at knocking the git unconscious.

Five and six have moved to flanking positions, guarding the minister's well being- as expected.

I let my momentum continue and fall into the shadowed floor beneath the minister's desk, opening a portal and falling through.

Nearly instantaneously, I emerge behind the two remaining aurors and proceed to slam their unsuspecting heads together. They haven't even hit the floor yet when I clamp down my hands to either Arthur's shoulders, urging him back into the seat he'd barely begun to rise out of.

Sadly, I can feel him trembling beneath my hands in both surprise and apprehension. There was a time when I would have never been able to conceive of instilling anything other than affection and profound gratitude to the Weasley parents.

That time is past.

"'Purely for old times' sake I'll indulge you and answer your query. Ron and Hermione are taking a much needed sabbatical in which they are learning that negative actions have consequences, sometimes dire consequences. It is a lesson that you seem to require yourself, minister." I drawl pointedly in implied threat.

I'm rewarded with feeling his trembling grow to alarming proportions.

"H-Harry,... I.." he struggles to defend but I cut him off before he can even start.

"Save it. I warned you not once, but thrice." I remind him. "The first time was at my farce of a hearing where I warned the British Wizarding public as a whole and twice more in this very office where I warned you specifically to leave me alone. That's twice I've turned the other cheek for past considerations. You took me in and sheltered me when no one else would even consider the notion. You made me feel a part of something,... and then you took it away and betrayed the trust you once instilled." I remind him bitterly.

He's trembling worse now, only now it's from crying. He's crying for what once was as I, myself, once did.

I can empathize, but I haven't got the time.

"It's not bad enough that your aurors bully and harass me in your own office the blame for which can be laid at your feet in the first place. If your office hadn't endorsed Light Strike's illegal seizure of my person, I wouldn't be here today in the first place."

Arthur stiffens up at that and I can tell from his body language that he's surprised by this information.

"Harry,.. I didn't authorize,.. I'd never let... I gave you my word." He struggles to make me understand and believe him.

"You didn't know?" I echo half to myself in suspicion and half to clarify.

"No, I swear. I've had nothing to do with Light Strike since you left my office that first time. I.. I can't fathom...?"

"Hmm..." I muse out loud. "It would seem you have security issues that need immediate investigation? I trust that you will let me know what you uncover?" it wasn't a suggestion so much as a dire warning and he took it as such.

"O-Of course,.. yes. I'll not have someone conspiring under this office's authority." He vows.

I can feel the tension leave his shoulders as I pull my hands away. A groan from the floor draws my attention back to present circumstances and the original reason for my having visited.

"You can and are no doubt tempted to charge me for assault of your aurors, but they started this, not me." I defend my actions.

Mr. Weasley nods in agreement, relaying.. "Fenmore had no provocation for roughly laying his hands to you and.."

"I won't be laid a hand on." I acknowledge, cutting him off. "There are going to be changes around here, minister. I sweep my hand over the breadth of the entire ministry meaningfully. "I like not the look of this place on the surface. Yes,.. many changes are long overdue."

Harry left that last statement literally hanging in the air as he disappeared from the minister's office.

Arthur Weasley wouldn't have long to worry over what he meant as the following day would see the beginnings of an explanation as he arrived to find the walls of the entire ministry painted an array of garish colors that made him think of his twin son's joke shop.

Of course, the matter was completely out of his hands as a registered letter promptly informed him that the Ministry building was under new management and said manager was currently instilling some **long overdue **upgrades for which the rent would be raised with commensurately.

"Bravo, Harry." He complimented falling into his chair in defeat and dropping the letter to his desktop. He bleakly wonder what else he had to look forward to in the coming days. If it was thing he was rapidly learning, it was that Harry had suffered deeply and lengthily beneath their betraying hands and he was taking his vengeance and rightly so.

"Bravo...Harry.."


	16. Chapter 16:Haven't you been paying

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

**Chapter Sixteen: Haven't you been paying attention, woman?**

* * *

><p>"Urppp...! Merlin, what's in this? I'm all crawly inside." he complained looking skeptically down at the remains of what he assumed to be a meat pie.<p>

Finally, deciding enough was enough; he called over a server and asked. "What's this?"

"It's the meat pie you ordered, Minister." The man responded blandly.

"But what's in it?" Arthur pressed, fighting back yet another wave of nausea while clutching the table for support.

"Meat, sir." Came the bored reply.

"But what kind of meat?" Arthur growled out having lost what remaining patience he was clinging to.

"Ah..." the man sighed in understanding. His lips curled into a smirk that immediately had Arthur wishing he hadn't asked.

"Kangaroo meat, sir."

"Kangaroo?!" Arthur gagged in disbelief, poking at his pie with morbid curiosity as he crinkled his nose in disgust.

"Yes, apparently there's an abundance of kangaroo, so much so that they're being culled. I'm given to understand that your landlord was able to procure a large shipment at a substantial savings. It's supposedly quite nutritious and the savings will go a long way toward renovations and keeping rent costs down. It's inherent that governing agencies preserve the bottom line for the tax payer's sake. Don't you agree?" the man suggested pointedly.

"At the expense of poisoning said government officials?" Arthur retorted incredulously, glaring at the man.

_How does Potter keep coming up with this stuff, let alone find these people to support it?_ He wondered with growing appreciation for the man's devious side.

He'd thought his twin sons were the epitome of a conniving nature, but they weren't a patch on Potter.

_The son of a marauder alright!_

Every day it was something different since that first when Harry Potter had cleverly obtained the ownership of the ministry building.

First it was having repainted the walls the most garish colors of the spectrum. The next day he had new carpeting installed over the top of the lustrous tile floors- a hideous green shag carpet. That had staff member upon staff member complaining in his office.

He didn't know what they had to complain about as he himself was made to endure a school yard playground surface complete with painted hopscotch lines and swing set for good measure. One that sang children's play songs has the swings swayed on their own volition That last was supposedly a thoughtful gift of the owner to relieve the stress of a busy day.

_Stress- the man had no idea?_

The day after that the lobby was filled with performing artists such as: clowns making balloon animals, jugglers, mimes and even an organ grinder with a monkey.

_The monkey was a nice touch._

Initially the monkey had the gathering crowd enthralled as he danced about with his little tin cup collecting donations.

It was later that they'd found the little blighter had thieved everyone blind; lifting coin purses and emptying wallets with a gypsy's dexterity whilst the balloon animals distracted everyone as they animated to life and scurried about creating chaos.

_Creating chaos,... exactly what Potter had undoubtedly had in mind._

The next week order was restored when the elves arrived. Scores of house elves set the building to rights. The walls were repainted in professionally appropriate colors. The floors were returned to their former glory and polished to high sheen that had visitors gasping with envy.

He should've seen it coming.

The, oh so helpful, elves then took it upon themselves to update the ministry's filing system to improve upon interdepartmental efficiency. It probably would have done just that if they hadn't alphabetized the system in elvish.

They even took things a step further and altered the filing system of the Dept. of Regulation and Control of Magical Species' files in each species' native tongue.

_Inspired that._

It took a score of ministry clerks receiving an all time high payout in overtime to rearrange the filing back into some semblance of a workable system.

Potter had at least refunded the month's rent in a show of good faith to offset expenses from the mishap.

The money they'd saved was readily spent the next day in removing the Olympic sized pool that had replaced their lobby.

Workers had arrived to find an elderly population of scantily clad and obviously obese; wizarding folk 'jazzercising to the oldies' in the pool that replaced the lobby, all except the fountain which served as a filter system for the pool-_ingenious that._

It'd cost a fortune to remove the pool expediently so as not to interfere with daily ministerial business.

It would undoubtedly cost another fortune in litigation as the "landlord" had filed suit the next day seeking damages for unauthorized changes to his property, a clear violation of their lease agreement.

To top it all off; Arthur had received notice that their security deposit would not be returned at lease's end.

Arthur Weasley wasn't a fool although he certainly felt like one. War had been declared on the British Magical government, or more precisely- he himself. Make no mistake, it was a battle he'd already lost and was eager to cede defeat to the party he'd wronged.

Unfortunately; he couldn't as yet as all overtures by his office were met with a cool indifference to forward all solicitation to said "landlord's" legal representation.

The same legal representation that had brought Dumbledore to his knees and saw the once "leader of the light" disgraced and incarcerated.

"And what's this?" Arthur gasped in shock, happening upon a bit of furry gristle now hanging from his fork.

"Oh, good show." The server cheered approvingly. "You got a piece of pouch. That's a delicacy down under, you know?" the waiter commented on his good fortune.

"Urrppp.." Arthur gagged and left the table hurrying for the nearest men's room.

Unfortunately the restrooms were currently being renovated on this floor just now.

* * *

><p>"Jamie..?"<p>

Snap-Snap

"Huh..? What , um,.. what were you saying?"

Julia giggled at that, having snapped her fingers in his face to get his attention. She'd been giggling a lot thus far. The source of her amusement was the usually suave, Jamie Harrison, aka Harry Potter, that was sitting across from her.

Nervously he'd asked her out to dinner. Why he was nervous she couldn't fathom as he could have asked her almost anything and she would have jumped at the opportunity; though he was not to know that.

A girl has her reputation to protect after all.

That had been the first of many dates, each more romantic then the next, up until tonight when Jamie seemed a million miles away. Which raised the point: _could he travel a million miles away?_

"Jamie...? You're doing it again." She chided sounding nothing but flattered by the attention, or lack thereof.

"S-Sorry." he apologized sheepishly.

He'd waited for her at the foot of his own stairway which had been all too the good as she'd made an entrance that had thus far, well... _entranced_ him.

He'd told her to dress casually so she had... a simple fisherman's sweater, tan pants and sensible shoes.

Could she help it if the clerks in this country didn't know a size three from a four? So her sweater was a bit snug and her pants seemed to cling to her slender hips...

At least her hair had come out well. A simple French twist that accentuated her throat- tantalizingly so.

"Jamie...?"

"Oh,.. ah.. so are you ready for dessert then?"

"he-he-he..." she giggled musically, enjoying the way his eyes traveled and fixated on her well moistened lips. "Jamie ,.. we haven't even ordered our meal yet?" she reminded.

She had to hand it to the clerks that worked the make-up counter,.. they at least knew their lip gloss.

His impromptu, but extremely well received invitation, (though he was not to know that), resulted in a whirlwind shopping trip.

Her mother had begged him to take them to Paris for the day, but he was other wised engaged in some rental venture or another. Why he'd concern himself with mere rental properties when he owned a castle was a mystery, but if things were crystal clear then it wouldn't have Jamie's name on it in the first place.

The icing on the cake had been when he'd gathered her for their date and she'd enquired politely, (in front of her parents), where they were going this evening?"

"Paris, of course." He 'd replied, as if stating the obvious, only to have her mother's mouth drop open comically in envy.

Her envy was soon replaced by a glower and no doubt she was currently venting her wrath on her poor husband who' d laughed uproariously at Jamie's seemingly innocent acknowledgement of their destination.

The man had no idea of the power of a mother in-law.

Though, he was not to know that at so early and pretentious a date as this.

He'd gotten away once, she had no intention of letting it happen again; Light Strike or otherwise.

Taylor women were passionate about their chosen men and make no mistake, she'd chosen.

Though,.. he was not to know that- yet.

"You, mentioned something about a rental property..?" she attempted for the umpteenth time to establish a conversation with her otherwise preoccupied suitor. Though if she were honest with herself; he could stare all doe eyed at her for the remainder of the night and she would consider the date a complete and utter success.

Though,.. he was not to know that.

"Rentals.. oh, ah.. yeah." he managed to stammer out of his daze.

"You don't seem all that interested in the venture so why are you?" she read his reaction and body language with more adeptness than he'd have believed.

_We're all Taylor women so perceptive? _

"Yes, we are." She answered his unspoken question, startling him.

_Get a grip, Harry? You've obviously misinterpreted her._

"No you haven't." she added smirking like the cat that got the cream.

_Not possible?_

"You can't be reading my mind, not with my occulomency screens?" he suggested, adding skeptically. "And I wasn't even making eye contact to begin with?"

"Mother calls it a wife's intuition." She return with the most tantalizing albeit frustrating 'know it all' look that could give Hermione a run for her money.

"But we're not even married." he countered incredulously.

"Was that a proposal? Really, Jamie,.. Paris notwithstanding, a girl could at least expect a gentlemen to ask properly, let alone get down on one knee...?" she chastised humorously, though there was a hint of seriousness in her demeanor that even someone as clueless as himself could easily pick up on.

"Married!...Married...?" he pulled a face getting over his initial surprise and questioning whether or no she was onto something that he had unknowingly aired.

"Your orderz.." a French waiter drawled, interrupting their newly established conversation.

His eyes shifted back and forth between her and the distraction hovering over them.

"Go away... er, I mean,.. come back later..please?" he amended his harsh rebuff at seeing the man's crestfallen reaction.

"Very good sir..." the waiter bowed politely in acceptance, before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Married.. don't talk rubbish?" he scolded, finding himself becoming irritated by the knowing smirk she wore as if sensing he was anything but earnest in his dismissal of the idea.

"Julia... you don't have the least idea what you're sitting at a table with because if you did you'd be running off into the night without a backward glance. Married..?" he scoffed in exasperation, rolling his eyes as if it were the most ludicrous notion he'd ever heard.

_What am I saying?_

Julia tapped her forefinger to her chin thoughtfully, ignoring his antics as she answered the former regarding **who** he is.

"Hmm, as to that...Harry Potter, former, Jamie Harrison, former Harry Potter, Light Strike- Lt. Commander.. "retired"." She hastily amended at seeing the reproof on the tip of his tongue. "Vanquisher of the terrorist: Lord Voldemort, recluse, wizard, possibly even a 'shadow mage' if such a thing even exists," she added skeptically, to which he rolled his eyes but otherwise did not interrupt her assessment.

"Castle owner, dragon handler and .. landlord. That about sum it up?" she finished churlishly.

He pulled an impatient face."When you say it like that it sounds all too ordinary, but it's anything but." He reprimanded, though why he was arguing over what he is or was with her, he couldn't fathom?

"I give you that, but the landlord thing sounds harmless enough. What exactly is it you're renting, may I ask?"

She asked, so he told her.

Now it was Julia's turn to 'pull' an incredulous face.

"Seriously.. you own Britain's wizarding government?"

"Not the government as such,.. just the building they operate from." He clarified with a simple shrug of indifference.

"The goblins owned it previously, but I convinced them to give it to me instead." He added at seeing her puzzled expression, wrongfully thinking his explanation explained everything when all it did was add to the growing list of questions.

"Why would they just give it to you?" she asked absently alighting on the first and most obvious of what was sure to be volumes of questions.

She asked, so he told her.

"Julia...?"

Snap-Snap, his fingers garnered her attention

"What,... um,.. what we're we talking about?" she asked in a far away voice that he chuckled at.

She liked the way he laughed. There was a warmth to it that was ...well... sexy and alluring.

Though,.. he was definitely **not** to know _that_.

"We were talking about the goblins though I could think of many other subjects that are far more palatable dinner conversation." He suggested.

"Oh,.. no you don't?" she pounced. "That's extortion. You just can't go around blackmailing people to serve your own ends, though what _those_ are is another convoluted topic- I'm sure?"

"Extortion?" he barked in outrage, before lowering his voice and casting several wand less silencing charms as people were taking an interest in their conversation. "It's was nothing of the like. It was purely a business venture, one that will profit the both of us in the long run."

Julia stared at him as if he'd grown a second head from out of his neck. "How is threatening someone with financial ruin merely to wrest control of their assets going to prove a profitable venture for them in the long run?"

She asked, so he told her.

She stared at his for the longest time, puzzling through what he'd divulged. He let her work it out without interrupting.

Eventually she came to it. "Seriously?"

He nodded.

"But that,... that's...?"

"The politics of good business?" He suggested.

"Extortion and highway robbery, bordering on insurrection?" she countered in presumption.

"Potato-Potatoe" he wavered his hand back and forth pointedly, quoting her father from previous.

"I-I need a drink.." Julia gasped, clutching at the side of the table dizzily.

"Waiter..?" Harry called out, canceling his silencing charm as he did so. "...a bottle of your finest vintage."

Several steadying glasses of wine later...

"Why... and please tell me you're not doing this solely for revenge?" she pleaded with him, still trying to wrap her head around what he'd told her.

"Is there a better reason?" he countered with a devilish grin that she knew he was pulling solely for her benefit.

She clucked her tongue disapprovingly before pressing... "There's more to it though, isn't there?"

"There needn't be." He returned facetiously, but thought better of his behavior at seeing her crestfallen expression. "But there is. Do you know why we're called 'Shadow mages'? " he asked her pointedly, admitting he was such by even voicing the question.

At seeing her trepidation he answered for her. "Not because we're dark, Julia." He scolded. "We abhor the dark as much as you or any who dwell in the light. But we are _shadow. _We are not above using a dark means to destroy dark ends. I am not above killing if it is the most readily viably option to bring an end to more of the same. If Voldemort were alive now, here,.. I would kill him without the slightest hesitation or even the barest nuance of remorse. He was the living embodiment of evil and I would be lying if I didn't admit I find myself cheered to deliriousness at his demise."

"Terrorists are a blight on the world." she readily agreed.

"Not mere terrorists, but _evil_, true _evil_. Oh,.. don't get me wrong? Many of those twisted wrecks of misbegotten humanity fall into that category, but most are not evil. They are misguided to the point of insanity, _perhaps,_ but not evil; at least not the true representation of what that term entails. I have eliminated with extreme prejudice dozens of terrorists, but only one such as Voldemort to date. I do not know that it is my calling or responsibility as such, but I do know I was given the abilities I have for a reason. "

Julia wiped at her too moist eyes before acknowledging. "I-I know you've done a lot of good things for a lot of people Jamie, but you can't believe you exist solely to combat the evil in the world...?"

"What can the saving of a few precious lives count against the untold thousands preserved by eliminating an evil swine like Voldemort compare?" he argued against her. "I could travel the world in a blink of an eye righting wrongs, many of them grievous to be sure, but to what end?" he asked, not expecting an answer as it wasn't so much a question as a skeptical statement.

"Virtue is its own reward." she answered quickly, too quickly she realized.

"I could work myself to exhaustion, neigh, to the point of death in a matter of days for virtue's sake, but what could that compare over the unnamed masses that were saved by the destruction of the evil that was Voldemort? What about others such as: Grindlewald, Hitler, Rasputin?"

"My point exactly," she fell into a trap of her own devise and wasn't even aware. ".. those men met well deserved fates without requiring the intervention of any such crusader. The people themselves rose up to..."

"Wrong" he interrupted. "They were dispatched by Shadow Mages. They and many others like them throughout our history."

Julia pulled a face at that. "Let's say for the sake of argument that what you say is true..." she held up a hand to forestall his immediate rebuttal as she continued her point. "You make it sound like Shadow Mages are assassins? You even make it sound like its some form of public service?"

Harry smiled a warm smile that never quite reached his eyes and despite its warm appearance it chilled the blood in her veins.

"Assassination could be considered the_ highest_ form of public service, but no,.. shadow mages are not in and of themselves -assassins."

Julia smirked triumphantly having sensed his train of thought. "If that's so then why was Hitler allowed to live so long; to cause so much wholesale destruction before he met his end? If he was evil then why was he not vanquished outright before his evil took root and flourished?"

She was almost silently congratulating herself on ingenuity, but it was short lived.

"Shadow mages are not gods, Julia." He responded sagely. "We cannot know from the onset what is and what is not meant to be. We must content ourselves with letting events play out as they may until what is truth is revealed to be just that. Was you Abraham Lincoln an evil man?"

"N-No,... of course not. He liberated an entire people." She argued.

"Yet, one could argue that he was the catalyst that launched your nation into a civil war that nearly tore itself asunder; pitting brother against brother and father against son. It was in this the _end_ result that proved the ultimate good of things, the reason that justified the suffering. Not all things are as they initially appear on the surface. I, myself, am included in that statement. You saw and perceived Jamie Harrison when in actuality you could argue that you were deceived by Harry Potter."

Julia's eyes narrowed at that although she couldn't entirely fault his logic; still she argued the point of the evening as far as she was concerned.

"We're we deceived or was Jamie Harrison the part of Harry Potter that was truly Harry Potter? By all accounts Harry was and is an honorable man; one that does that which is right, not just what is easy. Jamie Harrison was the embodiment of that ideal. He enjoyed laughter when and where he could. He even took the chance to love and be loved,.. did H-Harry?" her voice broke at that and her eyes filled with tears as she waited with bated breath for the words that would see her dreams realized or her hopes dashed.

It was a long moment before he answered, but when she did she could not only hear the truth in his words but feel them with her heart.

"N-No,.. no he didn't." he answered haltingly, his green eyes looked up hopefully. "At the time he would have thought himself a coward for not having chanced it. Now, in retrospect, was it that or some greater wisdom waiting until the truth was revealed."

Harry quirked a disarming half smile at the irony as his own words ensnared him. "The lot of a Shadow Mage in having to wait until the truth reveals itself. What I had thought a curse proved to be a blessing."

Her hopes soared at that and with it her hands reached out and tremulously grabbed up his own. She wanted so desperately to pull him into a soul searing kiss and never want for air again.

Harry smiled the smile that was pure Jamie. It was the smile that he held for her and her alone as if he knew the words of her heart.

_It's a good thing he can't read my mind? _She thought feeling her face heat and feeling wholly unashamed in spite of it.

"I can actually." He responded with a smirk that told her he could and had. "You said something about Taylor women being passionate, I recall?" He chided acting as if shocked.

This time her face did flush, though if anything she appeared proud of it as she defiantly met his eyes and poured everything she was feeling into her silent thoughts.

"Shame on you." this time he was shocked, but not in a bad way.

She cocked an eyebrow challenging him, daring him to take her up on her offer.

"No dinner?" he asked with veiled disappointment.

Julia shook her head languidly.

"A walk along the canals; the city lights are beautiful reflected in the waters?" he balked half heartedly.

A small smirk played across her face as she shook her head again.

"There's the very real possibility that I could start a war tomorrow, you know?" he warned.

This time she nodded almost imperceptivity and he found the movement utterly enticing.

"I-I mean it, Julia?" he struggled to make her understand where he was coming from and that he was being candid regarding his eminent future prospects.

"So do I,...Harry." She drawled his name suggestively, wetting her lips ever so slightly with her tongue.

She thrilled at the way his eyes locked on her lips, his own mimicking hers as they'd gone suddenly dry.

His traitorous confidence fled him as he found himself confessing... "I,.. that is... I've n-never..."

Her eyes sparkled at that. She'd never even dared consider let alone hope that confident and worldly Jamie Harrison...

"I'll be gentle." she promised playfully, meaning anything but.

* * *

><p><strong>The next day...<strong>

"How was dinner last night?" Gail asked innocently as she sat down to the breakfast table.

Harry dropped his glass of milk, his face flaming as Julia smiled invitingly answering.. "Delicious"

Gail waved her wand, vanishing the spill absently as she added hopefully. "Maybe you'll take us there some time?"

Harry started coughing and gagging as Julia chuckled.. "No,.. I think we'll just keep this one to ourselves."

"Spoilsport" he mother chaffed.

"She's h-hardly that." Harry managed to wheeze exhaustively whilst still coughing.

Julia smirked at that.

Jeff lowered his paper, taking an interest in their conversation.

Harry had just begun taking a hesitant drink of his juice when Jeff asked suspiciously, "You two didn't overdue it last night, did you?"

Julia shot Harry a smolderingly seductive smile that had him reeling. "No,.. but we got a good start. I think it's just the tip of the proverbial iceberg, actually.

"Uck-Gaaa" he sputtered and gagged, dropping the remains of his juice.

Gail pounded helpfully on his back in concern as she prompted "Get it out!"

"I remember yelling quite the opposite,... funny turn of events." Julia offered airily.

Her remark was completely lost on her mother, though Harry fled the room crimson faced and sputtering worse than ever.

"Am I missing something?" Jeff asked his daughter suspiciously.

Julia just smiled knowingly. Her mother, having caught on, answered for her while shooting her daughter a knowing look in return answered him smartly with...

"Probably much the same thing your father said when we were dating. You remember _that _time after you and I got _snow bound_ in that cabin upstate, don't you Jeffrey?" Gail drawled meaningfully.

Her husband, bless him, colored at the memory and fled the room much like Harry did previously: coughing and sputtering, his breakfast left unfinished.

The two Taylor women laughed affectionately for several minutes. Once settled, Gail rounded on her, practically glowing, daughter and demanded, "Spill?"

"Promise you won't tell dad, or Harry?" Julia cautioned.

Gail raised an eyebrow at that, wondering if her daughter realized that she was referring to Jamie properly as _Harry_ now?

Gail crossed her finer over her heart before proclaiming, "Witches oath"

"Oh,... mom..." Julia launched ecstatically into an almost PG-13 rated accounting of the previous night. She fairly bounced in her seat in happiness as she relayed to her mother some of the things he'd said and alluded to where "they" were concerned, glossing over any actual admittance to the intimacy with which the evening progressed into early this morning.

Once finished, Gail fixed her daughter with an appraising eye and asked knowingly... "So I take it that the two of you have taken things to the "next level" as they say?"

Julia's face flamed at that, though her eyes held her mother's accusatory glare defiantly despite her discomfort.

The standoff lasted all of a few precious moments before both dissolved into delighted laughter.

* * *

><p>"Have you seen your father?" Gail asked, happening upon Julia during her search.<p>

"No,.. have you seen Harry lately?" she asked in return.

"No,...er..

"Uh-Oh" they both gasped worriedly. The two of them missing did not bode well for what two such highly capable men could be getting up to when left to their own devise.

They spied the two of them from the tower. They were out, in the newly fallen snow, teaching Heath Cliff to fetch.

"Now watch Heath Cliff." Harry instructed waving a large stick back and forth in front of Jeff expectantly. He through the stick and then told Jeff to "fetch it".

Jeff Taylor trotted out and gathered up the stick in his mouth before trotting back and returning it to Harry waiting expectantly for an acknowledgement.

"Good boy." Harry complimented, patting Jeff on the head and removing the stick from his mouth.

"Now you try, Heath" Harry suggested.

He threw the stick high into the air. Heath Cliff tracked the trajectory of the stick as it disappeared in a snow bank some ten meters to his left.

Undaunted, the dragon blew searing flame across the ground, melting the snow. He trotted over and slurped up the smoldering stick into his fanged maw.

He returned to proudly drop the crumbling, ashen remains at Harry's feet, waiting expectantly to be complimented.

Jeff snorted a laugh at the incredulous look on Harry's face as he toed the sad remains of smoldering ruin.

"Maybe we should get one of those ceramic fireplace logs?" he suggested.

"Either that or a new dog?" Jeff retorted, still laughing.

Gail looked to her daughter, who rolled her eyes at the antics of the men in question.

Deciding they'd found something fairly harmless to do, the women left unannounced.

"They gone yet?" Harry rasped under his breath.

"Yep" Jeff assured, chancing a quick look in their better half's direction.

"Alright Heath Cliff, you know what to do." Harry instructed.

That said, the dragon burst into the air and winged away to the North West.

Once Heath Cliff was out of sight, Jeff turned to his younger friend. "You sure about this?"

Harry nodded, asking in return curiously. "Weren't you?"

"Still am" Jeff returned assuredly.

More than satisfied with his answer, Harry opened a portal and the two stepped in without hesitation.

* * *

><p>It had taken the better part of the morning and well into the afternoon before he made his decision.<p>

Calling Jeff over, Harry half asked, half decided.. "I think this one?"

Jeff Taylor quirked a half smile as he clapped his friend on the shoulder agreeing, "It's perfect."

"You think?"

"I think."

With a sigh of relief and a satisfied smile; Harry made his purchase without so much as batting an eye at the small fortune required though Jeff paled and tugged at his own collar uncomfortably.

Once that was done Jeff suggested.. "Let's get a drink to celebrate."

"It's a bit premature isn't it?" Harry asked skeptically. "Besides,.. won't Gail be upset if you come home pissed again?"

"Yeah, but the makeup sex is great!" Jeff chortled, guiding Harry towards a nearby tavern.

**Two a.m.-**

"S-Shhh." Harry shushed fanning his hands back the way he came. "D-Don't want to wake the ladies." He whispered tentatively.

Jeff was just staggering through the portal Harry had conjured with the last dregs of a drink swirling in an over large decanter that be the looks of things they'd worked their way through and more than once.

"R-Reminds me..hick,.. of the time Gail's dad and I went out after I'd formally asked for her hand...hick..." he gasped out drunkenly falling into the nearest chair.

"I t-take it he said yes?" Harry surmised kicking off his trainers and swinging his legs overt ht arm of the chair across from his friend.

"Y-Yeah,... but he tried to talk me out of it for the better half of that night." Jeff retorted

"Lamenting his loss , eh?" Harry guessed staggering toward the service bar to crack open yet another bottle of who knew what.

"No- mine. Har-Har-Har!" Jeff laughed uproariously. "He said she was just like her m-mother. F-Felt..urp,.. Felt it was beholden to him to try and warn me off. Offered me money to disappear and everything...said it was the humane thing to do-Ha!"

Jeff rolled back and forth giggling, his nearly empty bottle fell from hands- busily clutching his sides as he groaned with each new bout of laughter straining his aching ribs.

"He-He-He... H-How much?" Harry chortled back, half spilling the liquor he was trying to pour in his distraction.

"N-Not as much as you paid out today, I c-can tell you? Haven't you made enough trouble for yer- yerself already? Now you want to go and hitch your wagon to Gail's daughter? She don't look like her... pretty though... like her mom,.. but she's G-Gail's daughter alright. I'd offer you the same deal Gail's dad did me if I could afford it, what with being on a limit income and all...?" Jeff rambled drunkenly, twisting the knife.

"Shhh-Sh-hhh" Harry shushed his drinking partner lest he wake up the objects of their rambling.

The lights of the family room blazed on.

_Too late..._

"Ugh,... my eyes!" Jeff complained throwing his forearm over his eyes to ward off the glare.

"Crickey, is it morning already?" Harry grumbled turning his wrist over to check the time, absently spilling his drink as he did so.

"Jeff-rey Tay-lor" his wife drawled succinctly in an icy tone of voice.

"Whozzat?" Jeff twisted his head to and fro.

His eyes fell on Gail,... S-Sorry Mrs. Enders,.. it was Mr. Enders idea." he pointed to Harry begging a reprieve.

_The coward_

"Mrs. Enders?" Gail nearly choked. "Jeffrey, it's me, Gail,.. not my mother you idiot."

"I-Idiot.. that's w-what Mr. Enders called me,... er, um.. never mind. Y-Yer dad said YES ..Gail." Jeff chortled happily.

Har-Har- Har. Harry grasped at the side of the server as he guffawed.

"What did you do to him?" Gail vented her wrath on harry seeing that her husband was in no fit state to understand her ire just now.

"Plied him with alcohol." Harry answered smartly.

"A-A lot of alcohol...hic." Jeff mumbled his agreement.

"Why?" Gail ventured curious now.

"C-Celebrating.." Jeff mumbled.

"It's tra-traditional.. I guess?" Harry offered lamely, shuffling back to the server and repouring another. He called out as he did.." A night cap?"

"Hell, yes." Jeffrey came out of his stupor like a race horse out of the gate.

"No you won't!" Gail threatened waving her finger at her bleary eyed husband.

"It's my right to.. right to.. what'd you call it? He called over to Harry for help.

"Get pissed." Harry offered, trying and failing to hit the glass in his hand and he swayed to and fro.

"Right,.. it's my right to get good and pissed after promising my daughter in marriage." He nodded his head, proud that he'd gotten that all out without a mistake.

"Where's that night c-cap..urp?" he demanded.

"C-Coming.. coming.." Harry begged off indulgently. He swaggered over and sloshed Jeff's drink to him before falling back into his chair with a thump offering brightly- "Cheers!"

Gail just stood there in her dressing gown gapping at the two drunken fools with the most shocked expression on her face.

"C-Come again...?" She finally managed to rasp out looking back and forth between the two.

"Haven't you been paying a-attention, woman?" Jeff waved airily, taking another sip before continuing... "He asked..." he sloshed his drink toward Harry. "I asked why... he told me... I did my duty and tried to talk him out of it, but,.. it turns out Jamie's just as s-stupid, er, ah.. lucky?... He's as lucky as I was." he hastily amended realizing too late what he'd divulged, before mumbling a last.. "Poor fella..."

"B-Bloke." Harry corrected.

"Right" Jeff accepted saluting him with his glass before downing the last vestiges.

"Another?" Harry asked.

"Hell.. yethh.." Jeff shoved his empty glass toward his younger friend and future son in-law"

Harry stumbled to his feet and grabbed Gail up in a half hug/ half steadying himself and asking.. "Have a little something to celebrate, Mum?" he offered cheerily.

"C-Celebrate..?" Gail repeated, gapping stupidly.

"Commiserate.." Jeff clarified in correction for her. "Just like her mom and grand mom...she is. She'll have him wrapped around her finger and drooling like Pavlov's damn dog before the honeymoon even begins..." he continued to grumble dejectedly.

"Jeffrey..?" Gail admonished.

"But I like, Jamie. Doesn't seem fair to..."

"Did you promise our daughter to Harry- tonight?" she was still trying to wrap her head around the subject of the evening.

"T-This afternoon, actually." Harry corrected.

She eyed him for a second before shifting her gaze back toward her husband , silently demanding an answer.

Jeff shrugged regretfully like a man confessing to a crime. "I'd of offered him money, but we're not exactly wealthy and besides.. he didn't want any to take her off our hands?" Jeff explained as if stymied by his friend's behavior.

"Let me see if I've got this right?" Gail reiterated, rubbing at her forehead with one hand as she tried to organize her thoughts. "Why in the world would you believe that we'd need to pay someone to marry our **lovely** daughter?" She asked and chastised in the same sentence.

"Er,.. ah...?" Jeff mumbled helplessly , quailing under her incredulous glare.

"It's a dowry thing." Harry interjected, coming to the poor man's rescue.

Jeff shot him an grateful look as Harry explained. "Very big over here,.. dowries. It would be considered in very poor taste to even contemplate offering of one's daughter without a proper dowry in place-Taboo, that. It would shame the whole family. Something like that could destroy a family's livelihood over night." Harry explained, pouring the three of them a generous helping of some smoking concoction that actually hissed when it contacted the ice.

"Oh,.. um.. I didn't realize?" Gail mumbled apologetically, something her hands nervously down her dressing gown.

Harry shrugged, capping off the bottle he held. "Doesn't matter to me? Many lords and such have married commoners. It was even fashionable upon a time to marry beneath one's station. It shows good will and all that... to the _commoners._" He amended sportingly, leering haughtily at Gail as he shoved a drink into Jeff's beseeching hands.

Gail stood there with her mouth hanging agape in outrage.

Which only served to add to the men's amusement as they chuckled, toasting each other.

Their laughter brought Gail quickly back to her senses as she rounded on the two.

"You're laughing at our daughter, Jeffrey." She reminded, huffing when he shrugged in acceptance.

"Hmm.. I didn't realize milord was being so generous. Thank you milord." She curtsied gratefully, if sarcastically, before Harry.

He stifled a snort as he fanned his hand at her... "You may leave us now." He dismissed, causing Jeff to guffaw loudly at the way his wife's face twisted back to shocked outrage again while Harry saluted him over his smoking glass.

Gail huffed and stamped her foot irately, grumbling under her breath as she failed to find an adequate comeback to put them in their place.

"Say,.. this is good." Jeff complimented, looking appreciatively to his half empty glass.

"I know a pub where we can..." Harry began to offer before Gail cut in.

"You are not taking him drinking and carousing all over London again." she laid down the law.

"We haven't even been to London yet." Jeff offered plaintively.

"Then where were you?" Gail snapped.

"Belgium" Harry answered.

"Belgium?" Gail practically screeched in surprise.

Her husband nodded."They have this blonde amber that's to die for. Not as good as this, but its close." Jeff added, eyeing his beverage appreciatively.

"You went to Belgium just to get drunk?" Gail scathed back at them in disbelief.

"W-Whose drunk?" Harry returned in an insulted tone. "I am just coming into my own, madam."

Jeff snorted at that.

Losing her patience with them, Gail pressed. "Why exactly did you go to Belgium then?"

"To get a ring , of course." Jeff returned matter of fact.

"A ring?" Gail asked in surprise.

"Belgium's the diamond capital of the world." Harry lectured. "They've got the best, or so I've heard? Anyway,.. we made out." He surmised in a satisfied tone.

"You.. you mean you actually went to Belgium to buy an engagement ring?" Gail asked in surprise, not having believed a word of their ramblings up till now.

She'd thought they'd just been having one over on her to throw her off her game, keeping them out of the doghouse.

She had to admit... it was working.

"Course we did." Harry began rummaging around in his pocket, grumbling as he did so... "Now where did I put that damn...?"

"You bought an engagement ring?" Harry continued searching her pockets as he snipped back sarcastically... "No I traded my virtue for it."

Jeff snorted at that.

"An engagement ring for Julia?" Gail pressed on growing more excited by the moment.

"Haven't you been paying attention, woman?" Jeff chastised. He turned his attention to Harry. "See I told ya? Just like her mom; never believes a word, always assumes the worst. No appreciation the lot of them."

Harry paused in his searching, eyeing his friend dubiously. "Good in bed though, right? That's what you said?"

Jeff shrugged indifferently, oblivious to the embarrassed gasp coming from his wife's direction. "Can't speak for her mom first hand but Mr. Ender's had a lot to say about it and Gail's no slouch.. I can tell you."

"Jeff-rey Tay-Lor?!" Gail gasped in mortification.

Jeff's head swiveled towards his wife. "There she is now. Gail honey,. remember what we did that night after your dad and I got back from celebrating... sorta sealed the deal? he-he."Jeff chuckled fondly.

Gail's face blushed crimson as she tied and retied her gown nervously. Her mouth worked silently in disbelief as she contemplated the nearest exit.

"She's a one my girl is. Why,.. when she gets her dander up she can do the most marvelous thing with her ..."

"There it is!" Harry sang out in relief, cutting Jeff off and saving Gail further embarrassment. Harry pulled a deep blue ring box out of his coat pocket.

"Thought I'd lost it for a minute there?" he sighed happily in relief.

Gail's eyes fixated on the box. "Can I,.. er,.. that is..could I...?"she fought to keep her hands from snatching it greedily out of Harry's hand.

"Sure." Harry tossed the ring box toward her and she snapped it out of the air like a starving man a crust of bread.

Snap-she opened the box.

"Merlin... It's absolutely exquisite. It must have cost a fortune?"

Jeff snorted at that. "Our house cost less."

Gail's jaw dropped open in shock.

"What's going on in here?" Came Julia's sleepy voice as she drifted into the room from the hall.

Snap

Gail closed the box and tossed it back handed toward Harry as she twisted toward her daughter with a too-quickly blurted and guilty.. "Nothing"

Harry's drunken bark of outrage put the lie to that. "Hey.. don't break the damn t-thing before I have a chance to pop the question?"

"P-Pop the question?" Julia gasped anxiously, her hands fidgeting with her gown the way her mother's did.

"Haven't you been paying attention, woman?" Jeff grumbled, repeating himself again.

He'd no clue Julia had entered the mix as his attention was mostly glued to the sad remains of his smoldering beverage.

"I told you, mum... we went to Belgium to find Julia an engagement ring after Jeff gave me his blessing. Now all I have to do is get up the courage to ask her? Should a seen me last night staring at her one minute and lost in space the next, my tongue was tied in knots. I spent half the night trying to scare her off when I should have been begging on my knees. She must think I'm daft? Gryffindor courage, puh-lease!" Harry grumbled dejectedly.

Julia swept past her mother who was already wiping happily at her eyes as she followed her daughter's trail directly to Harry.

Julia kneeled before Harry her eyes shifting from his face to the box in his hand and back to his face .

"yes" she gasped with conviction.

"huh?" Harry gapped misunderstanding what she was referring to.

"That's one for the books. Can't wait to use that for one of the toasts at the wedding reception."Jeff snorted.

His daughter ignored him as Gail drifted over to her husband and absently clutched at his hand, her eyes glued toward the scene before her as she sniffled happily in expectation.

"Yes,... I'll marry you, Harry James Potter." Julia's eyes held his own earnestly.

"Y-You will?" he whispered not trusting his own ears.

Julia nodded of a certainty. "I will"

With that she threw herself into his arms and kissed him like he'd never been kissed before and hoped she'd never stop.

"Oh.. my" Gail gasped in awe.

Jeff snorted again. "Just like her mom. Hey, Gail... remember what we did the night that **I** finally said yes?"


	17. Chapter 17: Santa Claus is coming to

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.

**Chapter Seventeen: Santa Claus is comin to town**

Out of the darkness came light. Normally one would welcome such a change, but in this instance they were anything but relieved.

Years they'd spent trapped, wandering in never ending twilight and desolation. Madness was ever at the periphery of their vision, but just before the darkness would claim them; he would return bringing with him hope.

It was a hope that was always dashed as quickly as it arrived.

It was the hope that was the worst. They could stand the isolation-almost. They could persevere over the gnawing hunger, well, at least she could. **That** more than anything was slowly driving him insane.

They could even endure the never ending wandering in futile search of an escape.

What they could not bear is his presence, or more appropriately what his presence meant... **hope**.

Just when their spirits were at an all time low of self loathing and revulsion...he would come.

It was always the same question on his lips and every time he'd asked it... they'd gotten the answer wrong.

They knew this because he would immediately leave them as he'd found them... near broken and beyond desperate.

They'd been sniping at each other all morning. Whether it was morning or no was completely irrelevant. It seemed as morning only because they'd just woken from the weariness of unceasing wandering and the hopelessness it brought.

Their argument was interrupted by a voice commenting... "Now, this seems like old times." Harry chuckled at the memory of Ron and Hermione's constant bickering throughout their youth.

"Harry...?!" Ron gasped, his voice begging with renewed hope despite the many times Harry had dashed said hopes like a wave upon a rocky shore.

"Don't beg , Ron" his wife snapped at him. "The bastard enjoys it, don't you, Harry?" she drawled distastefully.

"Ah, shrewish as ever, 'Mione." Harry commented wistfully, enjoying the way the use of her nickname both gladdened and made her shudder in dread anticipation of what was to come. He planted himself on a rocky outcropping that overlooked the two like a judge staring down upon the accused.

The truth being exactly that; They were becoming near perfect representations of what he once was ; accused, vilified, humiliated, but at least they were not betrayed.

The only difference in his eyes was that he was innocent of what they accused and undeserving of what they'd done to him.

They were not.

They thought hopelessness was the worst, but they were so wrong. It was the betrayal that was the worst.

Hope could be salvaged, but betrayal was forever. There was no taking it back. There could be forgiveness, but that too was fleeting as one could never forget the betrayal in one's own heart.

Dirty; their clothes hung in tatters, spirits all but broken as their hopes hung by a thread for some reprieve that was never coming. Yes,... they were very near perfect representations of what he'd once had thrust upon him.

The difference was not only that he'd been innocent, but that he had been self sacrificing. They were only interested in sacrificing for their own benefit.

They would learn.

"And what have we learned?" Harry asked knowingly, looking down on them with an infuriatingly impassive expression on his face.

Ron was about to blurt the first of many supplications, but Hermione held him back with a warning grab to his arm.

"Don't shame yourself- he enjoys it." she growled, eyeing her once friend with a look of utter loathing.

"Actually,.. I find it boring." He contradicted. "It is an utter waste of time. I can tell you from experience that begging or threatening from a position of helplessness is sheer folly. Many were the times I called out into the dark of my cold cell... begging my friends to find me, to save me. Such a waste of time," he lamented disappointedly, adding.. "but then again; how was I to know that it was they who had betrayed me in the first place?"

They winced at that, eyes lowered to the ground as the shame covered them like a shroud of doom.

Even Hermione's legendary defiance broke at that. It broke shortly after each time he'd arrived with no more than a mere word or two in reminder, and each time it renewed in his absence.

Though in truth; each time more and more of what she once was showed through ever so slightly.

She knew she'd both believed and done _wrong _by him. Her pride would not let her accept it, however.

It was a defense mechanism, one that he intended to shatter.

Today was that day. It had to be as he didn't want to waste another moment on either of them, nor did he want for their children to know what it was to spend Christmas without their parents as he did.

The silence lapsed until Hermione's impatience won out and she asked."What do you want from us, Harry,... an apology? There can be no forgiveness for what we did. You yourself have said that and many times. If you want us dead, then kill us and be done with it. We're powerless in this place, not that we could harm you even if we were in our own element with wands in hand. Is this to be our eternal punishment? Banished here to this place, this never ending gloom and desolation?"

"Ah..." Harry sighed as he nodded in acknowledgement. "We come to it at last." he prompted vaguely.

Hermione perked up at that thinking she'd hit upon some crack that would lead to her eventual pardon, or at least a possible escape.

"What is this place?" he asked pointedly. His voice was such that they knew instinctively that this was important and that answering, or even just _understanding_ this point could be the means of their salvation.

This was the question that he had continually put to them and continually been disappointed by their answers.

They both shared a questioning look with one another, Hermione was about to take the lead, but Ron beat her to it.

"I-It's your home ,... isn't it?" he half asked, half stated uncertainly but with a hint of **hope** in his near broken voice.

"Go on" Harry prompted him to extrapolate.

This marked the first time he had showed any interest in their answer other than just wordlessly leaving in disappointment, oblivious to their pleas of mercy.

They shared another look before Hermione took the next leg of the journey.

"I..It's not so much another world, well it is,.. but it's another dimension? It's sort of a parallel world to our own?"

"There are many worlds in many dimensions both parallel and, or, polar opposite of each other.

One of light and life and one of shadow and hopelessness. One thrives the other merely exists.

One renews and flourishes, the other withers, but never dies... **that **or is dead already. My question still stands, however,... what is this place?"

They shared another look before shrugging helplessly, resigned to their continued fate, one brought on by their ongoing ignorance.

With a look of utter disappointment,.. Harry explained. "You are close in your summation, but your stubborn pride will not let you see the forest for the trees. You call it my home, but it is not. It is or was as much my prison as it is now yours."

Both heads snapped up at that, but it was Hermione that gasped out first in dread understanding.

"OMIGOD... we did this.. didn't we?" her voice fell at her own revelation. "T-This is where you went when you left... this is what we left you to... this desolation."

Harry nodded. "At last a light at the end of the tunnel." There was a smile at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn't one of appreciation at their revelation as it was a relief that this torment was near at end... for all of them.

It was a long minute as he considered his next words before he continued. "I am now called a _shadow mage_, but what is a shadow mage? They are not born as we were, but are made. What you now dwell in is that which I was made into... this is my depression and despair incarnate."

Ron's head snapped back in horror whilst Hermione began weeping softly into her hands beginning to grasp the concept he was imparting.

The magnitude of their betrayal and what it had portended from the 'other side of the looking glass' was finally beginning to sink in.

"This is what happens when one is betrayed through no fault of his own save that of trying to do well by others. Some claim that the ninth level of hell is reserved for betrayers, but what is hell? They say we make our own hell in life. Perhaps that is the key? Perhaps we make our own happiness and along that line.. we are capable of creating our own hell? All I know is that after months of grief and self destruction I awoke to find myself here. And here I would have remained had I not learned to master myself and thereby master this place. In so doing I have mastered the realm of shadow and become, as a result, a _shadow mage_."

His once vibrant and soulful green eyes now glowed with foreboding power as they bored into their very being, laying their souls bare to his scrutiny.

"If your actions have caused this than one could extrapolate that you have made me and in so doing you have made your own hell.

Our lives have come full circle... have they not?" he asked in a tone that showed he was anything but appreciative of the irony.

Hermione was trembling violently as she sobbed great wracking sobs of pain and despair only now it wasn't solely for herself, but from having been the instrument of his suffering.

She'd done this. She'd brought this on him and now was suffering the same fate. It was one that she now knew she truly deserved.

They had taken life... his life. For that,.. the penalty of their own society was life. Whether in prison or the veil depending upon the heinousness of the crime

Ron was a wreck.

He knew he'd betrayed his own friend and had doomed his own soul as that friend could never, would never, forgive him. Now he knew why that was so... and it was well deserved.

This,.. this horrific never ending nightmare of emptiness is what they'd left him to.

They deserved worse.

"Now you see. Now at last you understand. Should I leave you in this place or should I pardon you to live out your lives as you have,... such as you have?"

Hermione was crying too hard to answer, but she shook her head half in denial, but half in acceptance that this is what she deserved.

Ron merely nodded his agreement, adding... "Leave us,.. it's been years already...might as well end things here. It's no more than we deserve. Maybe,.. in the greater scheme of things... maybe we'll earn a reprieve when we die. We don't deserve it, but maybe...?" he added desolately, holding little hope for his fate.

Harry smirked triumphantly. "Again you choose to take the easy way, rather than doing what is right?" he asked poignantly.

"W-What would you have us d-do?" Hermione hiccoughed through her tears. "We can never make up for what we did. Y-You can't forgive us for this... I c-couldn't in your p-place."

Ron nodded his agreement unable to spew the words out himself.

Harry smirked, only this time it was with real amusement etched within his features.

He opened a portal, only instead of an exit, it was like looking through a window into the world they'd left behind.

It was the view that was the reason for his current amusement:

Ron and Hermione's children were playing hide and seek, throughout the Burrow, as their grandmother found them and tickled them into surrender; their voices a chorus of delighted squeals and pleas for "more".

The Burrow itself was decorated to the rafters in celebration of the impending holiday season.

Harry turned from the view and was at least pleased to see that his two former friends were riveted on their children like a starving person to the sight of food.

"One last question before I decide your fate." he informed them. Their eyes only drifted toward him briefly before returning to that of their children who were now happily helping their grandmother make Christmas cookies. Their cherub faces were smudged with flour and their hands caked with sticky dough as they nudged and taunted each other whilst they decorated the cookies, each trying to sabotage the other's work.

"What do you see?" he asked pointedly.

Ron answered without hesitation. "Our children,.. as happy, or maybe even more so than I've ever seen them."

Harry nodded, though Ron was unaware of the gesture as he'd turned his attention back toward his children.

"Hermione?" he asked for her input now.

"T-They're a mess. Wasting their time with sweets and games when they could be studying... and.. loving every.. minute ... of.. it... Oh?"

Hermione's face fell in understanding as her words died in her throat.

Harry smirked again at the irony.

"They are children... it is their right to play and be happy. It's Christmas, after all."

At seeing he had their full attention, he explained the point that they were finally beginning to understand that they'd failed to understand previously.

"This is what we fought for!" he waved his hand toward the view. "This is what we bled and suffered for. This is what you betrayed for." he snapped in outrage and contempt. "I could forgive you that, had you not let your own children pay for your own mistakes.

"We were denied our childhood because of Voldemort, but you deny your children theirs because of your own condemnation.

Have you learned nothing? I chose to not let this place become my prison and thereby not to let your betrayal of our friendship dictate the rest of my life."

He pointed a finger down accusatorially at the two. "You, on the other hand, have chosen to let your own guilty conscious bleed through. You did nothing to make amends, but so much more the worse; you let your children pay the piper for your own short comings. They are children; innocence and happiness are their birthright, not a privilege to be earned by eating their leafy greens or having to read a book and write a report on the material."

Harry shook his head dolefully at his profound disappointment. "I have chosen to let the past remain the past and not dictate my future and yes,.. I have a future." He pronounced, curling his lip in disgust at the notion of them sharing the same world as he.

"It is your future we are here to decide." Harry swept his hand toward the portal screen . "Your mother is a wise woman, Ronald."

Ron's head snapped up at that, more so because Harry had used the formal in his name as he had never done so before.

It was like a slap to the face... one that clearly had awakened him.

"Your future..." he sighed in reminder. "Your children are your future. Their happiness should be your legacy. Leave the worries and dangers of our world to those of us adults who are equipped to deal with them. Let the children enjoy their childhood whilst they may. In this Dumbledore was correct though he never practiced what he preached." he left off in bitter disappointment for what was.

"W-Why... Haven't they aged?" Hermione gasped curiously, daring to hope.

Harry grinned. "You perceive correctly, Mrs. Weasley." Again he addressed with cool formality.

"Time passes here differently than in the world of light. Ten years has passed here, but only ten days from whence you came."

"Ten years..?" Hermione sighed at first in wonder as she ran her hands expectantly over her face and found herself surprised that her skin, whilst dirty, was still smooth. She began trembling when she extrapolated that she hadn't aged physically and turned haunted eyes toward her captor, knowing what that meant for him.

Harry nodded. "You begin to understand even more so now, I think?"

Hermione nodded asking in a near whisper..."H-How long... How old...?" she found herself too overwhelmed to even form a complete sentence.

"I was here four months before I mastered this realm and the abilities inherent to it before I won free and returned to our own world. Four months by the light world's measure. " he corrected, to which both their heads snapped back in shocked disbelief at having made the calculations.

It was inconceivable that he had been trapped here a hundred and twenty years alone with naught but the pain they'd left him in.

Ron fell to his knees sobbing his despair, his wife clutching desperately to him lest her overwhelming grief snap her tenuous hold on sanity.

He let them cry, spending his time enjoying the sight of their children happily spending the afternoon with their grandmother, silently wishing he had such memories of his own to cherish.

When their wracking sobs at last diminished to forlorn sniffles, he asked... "Are you ready to return and salvage your futures?"

He nodded toward the window into their world. "Make it for them all that you once wanted for yourselves. Teach them to fly and play quidditch, Ron. Show them how to prank and laugh. You , of all of us, had the keenest sense of humor."

Ron nodded his head with renewed strength and determination.

Harry turned his attention to Hermione. "Teach them the wonder of the world around them as they discover and explore. Do not ram facts and figures into their conscious brains but allow them to discover along with you."

"I..I will. I promise." Hermione vowed as she rubbed the tear tracks from her dirty cheeks.

"Then I pardon you. He granted solemnly. "I cannot forgive, nor forget,.. but I choose to let you go,.. to let this go." He motioned between the three of them.

They both shared a hopeful look that they turned toward him expectantly.

Harry shook his head with a sneer of revulsion. "No,.. we are not friends, get that notion out of your heads. I crave your company as much as I would Malfoy if he were alive. Let us pass each other in the street with no more than an accepting nod... that is the best you can hope for. I choose to make Britain my home for the time being. We only share common friends and acquaintances. In that we are the same... **no more **than acquaintances,... **leave it at that**."

There was no mistaking the warning in his tone and by the look on their faces there was no need to.

They would never trouble him and his again. Not for anything, not for any reason.

Harry looked at them long and hard, his mind drifting over memories of better times. When he finally spoke it was with a note of finality that was unmistakable.

"I loved you both, upon a time. I would have gladly sacrificed myself in your stead...then. I grieve that this same time has long since passed. I grieve for what was. Our lives were filled with danger, but for all of that... there was love."

Harry hand drifted towards the corner of his eye. They both took a half step forward, wanting to comfort him, but he waved them off as one would an unwanted virus.

Without a word, he opened the portal, into the Burrow, wide enough to step through.

He motioned for them to leave with a last mournful acknowledgement. "For what was,.. Merry Christmas."

That said, he disappeared leaving them their lives to return to with the expectation that they would no longer squander the opportunity as they once had.

Whether or no,.. he was finished with them. It was both a blessing and a recrimination. It was one that they would forever be both grateful for and ashamed of.

They'd thrown away a true friend's love.

* * *

><p>"<strong>HO-HO-HO...MER-RRRY CHRISTMAS!" <strong>

Children ran out into the snow squealing and pointing into the night sky as treats rained down gently upon them. Their own parents had followed on their heels; their intended scolding had died on their lips. They gazed in wonder, awash in their own youthful memories as they watched spellbound as a giant sleigh and enormous reindeer pulled what could only be Santa , across the evening sky.

He waved and chuckled merrily as children ran hither and dither collecting treats and small toys from the snow. Their parents alternating between waving back towards Santa as he rode out of sight and watching their children's delighted antics.

"Whoa...Whoa up there you lot..."

"HO-HO-HO.. Merry Chris...Whoa...Whoa!... Awe-NOOOO...!" Santa's voice went from cheerful to worried to panicked and settled on resignation in the space of his trademark greeting as he sleigh slid across the Hogwart's lawn and plummeted right into Black lake.

BAA-WOOOSH

"Awe for the love of all that's holy..." he groused as he pulled his sodden shivering form out of the churning waters, watching morosely as his sleigh sunk into the murky depths of the Hogwart's lake.

Warily he watched the family, he'd thought to entertain at what should have been his final stop for the night, come running across the snow covered lawns, hastily pulling on their winter jackets and gloves as they came.

He rounded on his enormous reindeer as the milled sheepishly along the shoreline. He shook a single pathetic sleigh bell at the sorry lot; it was all that he could manage to salvage from his lost sled.

"Damn it all... when I say whoa... I mean Whoa! " He scolded, adding in lament. "That sled cost me a thousand galleons. Custom made oak with built in seat warmers, an in dash stereo that totally rocked and last but not least: a hot chocolate tap with sugar cookie dispenser,.. not that I even got a taste since Donner over there nicked every last one, ya great sponge!" The object of his ire cringed beneath his angry glare as he threw his long beard over one shoulder to more easily berate the rest.

"As for you... Comet.. you just had to gorge yourself on a fifty galleon drum of Hormel chili before we left, didn't ya? I swear that cloud bank you left over Seattle is gonna hang there for five damn years. They'll have to declare it a 'no fly' zone, not that it'll do that flock of seagulls any good... the poor devils never had a chance. Oh,.. and while we're on the subject , which one of you slobs left that **pile **on top the Ministry building? In case you forgot-I own the joint!"

Prancer sheepishly slunk away at that.

"Figures..." Santa groused as he watched the object of his ire beat a hasty retreat. "Let's see how "merry" you feel next year when I fit you with one of those astronaut diapers before we leave?" He called after.

The chiming of church bells in Hogsmeade distracted him from taking the rest to task..."Oh, very nice?" he grumbled checking his watch. "That little detour we took over San Juan for takeout made me late for Midnight mass.. and they were gonna let me sing in the choir and everything this year." he groused dejectedly.

"W-What in the world?" Gail gasped, coming up short in abject wonder at the spectacle of a sodden Santa Claus berating his reindeer on the shoreline of Black lake.. a gigantic hole in the ice gave silent testimony to the fate of his legendary sleigh.

He hastily pulled his beard back into place and offered an embarrassed. "er...Merry Christmas."

"S-Santa?" Jeff stuttered in gob smacked disbelief.

It was their daughter's giggles that brought things into perspective. "So this is what you snuck off to do?" she'd managed to get out before she broke down into side splitting laughter at his pathetic appearance.

""Wha,.. but the reindeer and.. and.?." Gail still stammered pointing at the reindeer milling about and the sleigh tracks disappearing into the broken ice.

Julia just laughed all the harder as Santa shot her a disgruntled glare and waved his hand to cancel the glamours over his eight reindeer that morphed into dragons as he explained.. "That would be this lot's fault... can't even land properly... you should see what they did to that apartment building roof in Sydney?" he grumbled.

"H-Harry?" Jeff asked bewildered.

"No.. it's the Great Pumpkin you wanker." he groused back sarcastically.

"But what're you...?" Gail continued, still staring and pointing.

Ignoring Julia renewed guffaws at his expense, he grumbled out ..."Spreading Christmas cheer and a heck of a lot dragon manure too... wait' till you see the corn they come up with in the Midwest this year? he added sportingly.

Jeff roared in laughter, joining his daughter, at that.

Harry curled his lip in distaste at the two as he stomped off for the castle with his "reindeer" in tow, grumbling something or other about "no appreciation" as his boots squished with each step he took.

* * *

><p><strong>An hour later, by the family room fire, over a warm cup of holiday cider...<strong>

..."Now let me get this straight?" Gail tried to put things in perspective as she shot a withering glare toward her snorting and giggling daughter and husband.

"You had a sleigh built and used a bunch of dragons _glamored_ to look like reindeer to pull your costumed arse around England playing Santa Claus for the British public as some juvenile holiday prank?"

"Hardly" Harry groused folding his arms over his chest and turning his gaze to the side with a huff.

"Well what part of that isn't accurate?" Gail returned condescendingly.

He kept his gaze averted to show his displeasure as he answered facetiously... "The part about England and pranking and "playing Santa Claus" hf huffed indignantly.

Gail shot him a look of withering patience as she waggled her finger knowingly and ventured... "I'm to believe this wasn't some grand prank, then?"

"Yes, no.. well,.. it was a prank, sort of... but not really?" he struggled to explain, but only served to increase the volume of laughter from his fiancé and future father in-law's direction.

"What do you mean "sort of" a prank?" Gail asked pointedly, tapping her foot as she made quotation marks in the air.

"How do you do all that at the same time?" he asked her curiously.

"Answer the question?" Gail snapped having lost all patience with the fool sitting before her as she lamented to her chortling child.. "Are you sure that you still want to marry the village idiot?"

Harry rolled his eyes at that as Julia fell from her precarious perch on the coach and Jeff Taylor spilled his drink, but was laughing too hard to care.

Harry pulled a face. "That's a fine way to talk and at Christmas too? Not sure I want to marry into the "Grinch" family." he scoffed in a hurt tone that only served to make the others laugh harder.

"It was fun.." he finally decided to explain. "but it wasn't a prank. Heath Cliff and company provided the reindeer power and,...despite a few mishaps.. the evening was a success."

Gail rolled her eyes.. "How was crashing into the lake in anyway a "success"?" she growled sarcastically.

"Well if you must now.. that was only after we completed our mission and the lads were probably getting pretty tired by then. Despite that last they did a pretty fair job of it.. suppose I should treat them with a crate or three of Honeydukes for a bonus..? Maybe some of those jumbo peppermint candy canes too?" he mused absently.

Gail threw up her hands at that, but she was far from done as she demanded he explain everything from the start.

"At this hour.. we'd miss Christmas day and I've got big things planned?" he protested.

"Summarize?" Gail barked.

"Fine." He spat. "we all know Santa was a wizard.. right?"

Gail nodded.

"Well,... it occurred to me that even a Merlin class wizard couldn't traverse the world in a single night delivering gifts and such,.. but a _shadow mage_ with the right help..?" he conjectured.

Gail's mouth fell open and the laughing from the others abruptly died.

"Y-You don't mean...?" Jeff gasped.

Harry nodded.

"N-Not all over the world? You didn't really...?"Julia gapped next to her astounded father.

"Nah,.. only about seventy-five to eighty percent of it. We started in Australia and worked our way back through the time zones. Using the Dragon's natural speed and a whole bunch of twilight portals to cover the distance more quickly we were able to put a good dent in the whole "Night before Christmas" thing before we ran outta starlight. We must of went thru and good ten tons of sweets and small toys and such, but you shoulda seen people's faces?" he smiled wistfully, obviously pleased with the whole venture.

Oblivious to his friend's stunned to speechless state, he continued to muse out loud that... "My first real Christmas was here. It was the first time I had any Christmas presents or anyone who wanted to even celebrate Christmas, with me, for that matter. It seems fitting that this is where the night to celebrate anew both began and ended. It maybe wasn't a complete success, but with a little more planning I think we can get it right next year?"

He closed with a deep yawn and a good stretch. "Well, I'm beat...gonna hit the hay so I can get up early... got a few more surprises planned...Night everybody." He waved sleepily and plodded off without waiting for their return.

He would have waited a long time as it was several minutes before the shocked group came out of their stupor.

"He didn't really fly around the world delivering presents, ...did he?" Gail half asked, knowing already that it was not only possible, but most likely- probable.

Jeff, ever the cautious, thinking commander that he was, decided a bit of reconnaissance was in order and flipped on the wireless.

_It's absolutely astounding people... if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I'd of never believed it... Yes, Virginia,..Santa Claus does exist. This reporter saw him fly overhead not two hours ago. My own children are playing with some of the toys he'd delivered as I speak. ..._

_Reindeer, I tell you.. Big reindeer, but reindeer just the same flew over our town wishing those lucky enough to gaze into the holiday sky a "Merry Christmas" as toys and treats rained gently down overhead..._

Jeff continuedflipping through the stations, pausing in astonishment as report after report came in of 'Santa' sightings. The last was an overseas broadcast from the States.

There was no laughter now between the Taylors. Gasps of wonder-certainly.

Complete shock, but no longer in disbelief, but of wonder and awe- definitely.

Unfathomable love and appreciation... growing exponentially by the second-distinctly.

Jeff snapped off the radio, he didn't need to speak a dozen languages to know that he would find the same news being telecast on foreign stations.

He turned to his wife and daughter and decided simply that.. "Santa Claus has come to town."

Julia was still gapping, that and wiping at her too moist eyes.

"M-My God,.. Jeff?" Gail stammered as she tried to wrap her head around the scope of such an endeavor. "It...It's absolutely shattering. Can you imagine the scope of such a thing let alone the cost? It's..It's.."

"Wonderful" he daughter finished for her mother, sniffling softly as her gaze drifted in the direction of her fiancé's departure. "It's something that not only could he do, but only **he **would do."

"And we almost drove him from our world?" Gail conjectured in disgust over what Light Strike and the public in general had unthinkingly done to such a person.

Jeff, despite the extreme circumstances, knew exactly what to do. He poured the three of them a small sherry and proposed a toast.

He raised his glass in his daughter's honor and cheerily exclaimed: "To the future Mrs. Santa Claus."

* * *

><p><strong>Christmas<strong>

Up early, he made sure everything was perfect for his return. He probably should have waited for the others, but he wanted this Christmas to be special. Heck, he wanted all of their Christmases to be special from now on and planned to see that they were.

There was a lot of work to be done in the coming months and years, but for now,.. there was Christmas with his family.

_His family. _He'd never tire of the concept, relishing it more and more with each new day.

Harry paused on his way through the family room to add a few extra, very special, gifts under the tree, treading carefully as the floor was nearly completely covered with brightly wrapped gifts already.

Setting to work; he set scones to baking, started the coffee and prepared a variety of fruits to finish off a light breakfast figuring they'd have plenty later what with the succulent turkeys that were slowly roasting in the oven along with a multitude of other foods.

Merlin, he loved turkey, almost as much as he did Julia and could never get enough of either one.

Julia, his family, presents and turkey... it couldn't get any better than this.

Actually, it could. With this in mind he set off to pay his respects.

Knock-Knock-Knock

"Who could possibly be calling this early?" the mother of the house wondered as she begrudging left her hot breakfast to answer the door, leaving the rest of the surprised family to finish their own meal undisturbed.

She peered through the peep hole in the door, catching a glimpse of a uniformed soldier of some sort holding a large bag that was so full that many wrapped gifts were toppling over the rim.

She sighed wearily believing the man collecting gifts for orphans and such.

_Why can't solicitors leave one alone, especially at Christmas?_

With a disgruntled sigh she pulled her purse off the coat hook and fished out a few coins to send the nuisance on his way so that she could return to her waiting meal in peace.

"Who's at the door pet?" Vernon called out as she reached for the knob.

"Just some solicitor collecting toys, Vernon dear." She called back.

"Indecent it is, spoiling Christmas for hard working honest folk." Her husband groused. "Ignore him, he'll leave soon enough." Vernon suggested his voice steady despite the massive amounts of food he was shoveling down his throat.

Only with frequent and intense glutinous practice could one perform such a feat.

Petunia Dursley was about to pull her hand back from the door knob when instead of a knock the bell was rung several noisy times.

"Oh, bother.." she sighed, deciding it was best just to press a few coins on the wretch and be done with it.

"Yes, Yes, a minute... it's Christmas you know?" she complained as she pulled open the door.

A tall, powerfully built soldier in a uniform heavily laden with ribbons and medal turned expectantly.

Amused, green eyes looked up into startled brown. Her eyes went out of focus for a moment as she contemplated the familiarity of the face.

_The eyes...? Where have I ...?_

Brown eyes went wide in the beginnings of recognition as she took in her hated sister's green eyes and looked up expectantly to the tell tale scar on his forehead...

"You...!?" she hissed not bothering to mask her utter revulsion that his presence elicited.

"Merry Christmas , dear aunt." Harry chimed with a cheerful smile.

"How did you find..?" she gasped nearly panicked, her eyes searching the surrounding area in expectation of their neighbors noticing.

"Easily, I just placed a call to my solicitor and viola!" Harry cut off, brushing past her without waiting for an invitation.

"Sorry, I can't stay long and catch up, but I've got quite a few stops to make. " he apologized acting as if they'd be disappointed that couldn't enjoy the day with them,.. as if?

"I just wanted to leave a few gifts and wish everyone well." He proceeded to deposit his heavily laden gift bag in their living room, one that was far more cluttered than his own with an abundance of gifts that was far beyond the pale for so small a gathering.

The Dursley's had moved away from Private Drive for a larger two story, thinking to leave their "troubles" and unwanted memories behind them. That and avoid any legal unpleasantness as a result of Dudley's rapidly deteriorating behavior around their former neighborhood.

"What's keeping you, pet?" Vernon half bellowed from the kitchen area.

Harry clapped his hands together winningly and made for the direction of his _dear _Uncle's voice, leaving his aunt still gapping appallingly at his presence within her pristinely hygienic home.

"Ah, Uncles, and Dudders, not in prison I see, good- good. How goes it old man?" Harry's voice rang out cheerfully from the kitchen.

"What're you doing here?" Vernon bellowed out after a startled pause.

"Why greeting my favorite uncle and cousin for Christmas, obviously." Harry's voice came back affably.

Petunia sighed and closed her front door. The cool breeze she'd cut off had apparently been the only thing to ward off the migraine she'd felt coming on thus far.

"W-We'll have none of your freakishness here, boy." Vernon bellowed, but Harry continued talking and greeting others as if it were the most natural thing and expected of a welcome guest.

"Dudders, whose this lovely lady, your wife?"

Truthfully, she was as 'big boned' as his cousin. No doubt it explains the attraction to one another, _probably met over a buffet somewhere_.

"Um,... ah... Priscilla... .." Dudley stuttered out half heartedly in trepidation.

"Charmed, absolutely charmed. Welcome to the family and Merry Christmas, Priscilla."

Petunia entered her kitchen to find her husband stuttering and stammering in near apocalyptic fury whilst her son looked ready to bolt for the nearest exit, without a thought for leaving his wife behind, whilst Harry kissed her daughter in-law's hand charmingly and the girl giggled appreciatively.

"N-Now listen you, we'll have none of your shenanigan's and what.. _just_ what are you doing in an officer's uniform with all those decorations? What're you playing at?" His uncle sneered suspiciously.

"You'll have to forgive my appearing in dress uniform. Since I've just retired from the service of late I've had little chance to have a new wardrobe tailored. Though, I must confess, I thought you'd like to see that I've made something of myself since I struck out on my own. It's pretentious, I know, but there you are. I'm sure Dudley has done himself well, haven't you 'old bean'?" Harry chortled expectantly.

"Y-You mean you were an officer and w-won all those medals." Dudley's wife stammered out in an awed tone.

"Yes, yes,.. It's all rather boring." Harry waved a hand dismissively over his uniform and looked expectantly toward his cousin.

"Dudley works at Grunnings with me, if you must know." His uncle grumbled out, beaming at his son who was fidgeting nearly to the point of a seizure under Harry's scrutiny.

"Excellent. I'm sure the two of you practically run the place yourselves? I knew you'd be a successful chap, just like your father, Duds." Harry complimented beaming at his cousin and uncle.

"Er,.. um, yes, well,... it's a pity we had no word of your coming else we'd have made another place and..." His uncle half heartedly apologized for the lack of preparation, casting a wary eye in his daughter in-law's direction least she become suspicious.

"A generous offer, but I've already eaten and I'm afraid I must push on, lots to do." Harry apologized for his impending departure. "I've left a few gifts in the other room; please accept them as tokens for my heartfelt gratitude over having taken me in as you did."

"P-Presents..?" Dudley asked half hopefully, half fearfully.

Following his son's wary train of thought, Vernon added... "Not anything _foreign_, I hope?" he asked pointedly.

"Ah, uncle.." Harry sighed appreciatively 'Still mindful of supporting our country's commerce. You're a true patriot. But, alas,.. I'm afraid the gifts were things I've picked up abroad: an Omega watch befitting a successful man such as yourself. A Cartier necklace for my dear aunt and the like? My apologies, if you'd like I could exchange them for something more _domestic_?"

It was all his uncle could do to keep from gagging on his greed as his moustache twitched wildly.

"N-No..!" he nearly barked, catching himself with a glance toward his unassuming daughter in-law. "That is no,.. I'd not like you to go to any trouble. I'm sure it's all quite lovely, thank you." The man sounded like he might choke on having expressed anything remotely like gratitude toward his hated nephew, but his greed got the better of his personal feelings in the matter.

With a slight bow and a heartfelt goodbye,Harry left as quickly as he'd come. Offering in parting..

"I've acquired a castle in Scotland,.. you know the one?" He smiled at his family's wary nods of recognition. "Anyway, I've.. er, renovated the place. Do stop in for a visit when you can." With a pleasant wave he saw himself out.

He's no sooner closed the door and fell back against the frame expectantly. Not more than a few scant seconds passed before he heard the muffled sounds, of what sounded a stampede for gifts, from within.

_Just as greedy and shallowly self serving as ever, eh? So much the better!_ With a happy smile he departed, saying... "Mischief Managed"

* * *

><p>It was just going nine a.m. Christmas morning when Julia stirred awake. Not bothering to change, she hurriedly pulled on her dressing gown and padded quickly toward Harry's room just down the hall from her own.<p>

Why he insisted on separate rooms she couldn't fathom. Sometimes the adorable man's sense of honor and propriety was absolutely aggravating. It's not like they weren't engaged after all.

With no answer to her gentle rapping which she did partly for stealth so as not to alarm her slumbering parents in the room across, but more so because she hoped not to wake him, hoping for that particular pleasure while lying next to him.

Satisfied that she'd knocked the requisite amount of times to be able to truthfully vouch having done so; Julia ran her fingers quickly through her sleep mussed tresses and loosened the tie of her robe to give a hint of the night gown she wore beneath.

It was Christmas red as befitted the future 'Mrs. Claus'.

_Have I got a gift for you, Santa! _She mused smiling in a very merry, but definitely not Christmas- like fashion.

She disappointedly found his bed empty and sheets already cold indicating he'd left some time ago.

_Urgg.. didn't the man realize it's Christmas? Today's the day Santa gets to rest and , Merlin willing, get a gift for himself._

_Not that she wouldn't benefit, of course._

Frustrated and knowing she'd never get back to sleep, not in the , er,.. _mood_ she was in, she decided to head to the .._Kitchen?.. of course!_

The smells of brewing coffee and baking scones delighted her in not only his never ending thoughtfulness, but that he was nearby and- **available**!

Julia hurried for the stairs.

Harry emerged from a twilight portal just as she came down the stairs. She was as radiant as ever, an absolute vision.

That is, if one had the stomach for the other side of the coin.

"What're you doing here?" Ginny Malfoy-Weasley hissed both in outrage and alarm.

Harry smiled a smile that was anything but wistful at having seen her after so long an absence.

"I've come to wish you and yours a Merry Christmas, Ginevra." He was at least pleased to see that by the way her eyes narrowed to slits that she still detested the use of her full name.

"Well, you've said it, now GET-OUT!" she nearly shouted, catching herself so as not to wake and startle her children.

Harry clucked his tongue admonishingly. "As charming as ever, I see. That and obviously wealth agrees with you, Ginevra. I've never seen you look so _radiant_ ,.. in a shallow, pretentious sort of way." Ginny fumed at that, her hand drifting toward the pocket of her dressing gown where undoubtedly she kept her wand.

He smirked hopefully at that as he continued his musings.

"All this...", at this Harry stretched his arms out wide indicating the mansion around them. "...is just too much, isn't it? Why this joint's nearly the size of Hogwarts?" he feigned an awed sense of surprise, envy even.

"Yes,... it's much too much for a humble widow and her two spoilt children to maintain. What with a second mortgage lean on it and all? A shame that,.. I suppose dear departed Draco must have squandered his inheritance, gambling, other women and the like?" he conjectured pityingly.

Ginny whipped out her wand with an angry snarl of... "Mucosa Chiroptera!"

The brown light of her infamous "bat boogey" hex streak toward his face. Harry merely waved his hand airily and the curse disappeared through a twilight portal that snapped shut so quickly after that Ginny thought the spell had disappeared in thin air.

"That temper of yours hasn't improved a lick I see, and on Christmas yet? Here I am bringing a little relief to brighten your holidays and all you can think to do is fling hexes about?" Harry shook his head sadly in disappointment as he half lamented/ half bated... "Out of the goodness of my heart, over our past affiliation, I convinced the goblins to transfer your mortgage to me to keep a humble roof over yours and your children's heads lest you end up on the streets,... and this is my thanks?"

"O-Our mortgage,... you..?" Ginny stammered in surprise.

"Yes, yes,.." Harry acknowledged off handily. "Course , you were behind a few payments,.. naughty that." He waggled a finger her way to which she had the grace to look a titch ashamed, though she brightened considerably when he informed her that... "They were satisfied with a donation or two in lieu of payment once I convinced them there would be no profit in merely foreclosing on this fine manse, especially as there's no viable customers in Europe that could readily afford such an opulent dwelling, well, except for yours truly, but.. I've already got a castle and a few outlying buildings... ?"

"Y-You... did that for m-me?" Ginny gasped pointing to herself.

"Course I did, and don't worry; with me holding the lien on this mansion you'll always have a roof over your head." he promised, smiling brightly.

"Tha-Thank you." Ginny stammered gratefully.

"Merry Christmas, Ginny." With a wave, Harry disappeared before Ginny could respond.

He sat in the twilight realm opening a window into the mansion's apparent 'family room', if that's what one could call a roughly two thousand square foot lavish suite complete with a fireplace big enough to roast a dragon in.

The twenty foot tall Christmas tree was breathtaking,... a shame about the gifts though.

Ginny and her two brats nearly streaked into the room, expecting to tear into their many gifts bought with money based on the false pretense that the Malfoy name was still a wealthy one.

They found instead a festive tree adorned not with fairy lights and ornaments, but with a single Christmas card addressed to:

_**Ginny... **_

_**As I said, a few donations were in order to appease the goblins. I took the liberty of liquidating several of the mansions paintings, tapestries and the like. **_

_**It took a bit of haggling , but the antique ornaments adorning the tree settled the matter of your overdue mortgage payments, though I'm afraid that you still owed on the outstanding interest... so I relieved you of your elves on staff as you won't be needing them any longer due to other arrangements I've made for your benefit.**_

_**As I indicated.. you'll always have a "roof" over your heads, and with this in mind I've found a suitable, if humble, dwelling in need of a little TLC.**_

_**I purchased the former.. 'Gaunt' family cottage. It's been vacant for some time so I was able to get it for a good price. It seems that there was a spot of trouble with the nearby neighbors in the 'Riddle Manor' , but the situation resolved itself when the owner died unexpectedly.**_

_**Sorry about the gifts. Seems your creditors demanded their return, but in the Christmas spirit I was able to absorb the cost owed at a discount provided that I donate said gifts to charity.**_

_**I donated your things to a woman's shelter and your children's things to an orphanage.**_

_**I've enclosed the charitable receipts so that you can at least submit them for tax purposes. Hopefully you don't owe any back taxes, but if this is not the case; do contact me and I'll do my best to broker the debt in your behalf.**_

_**In fond remembrance of our past,... Merry Christmas...Harry.**_

_Ah, the music of Christmas carols sung with heart. _He lamented fondly.

The sounds of spoiled children crying for gifts reminded him of Christmas' past as Dudley used to do when he was always unsatisfied with the hoard he'd received.

Ginny screaming in furious outrage reminded him of his dear uncle; when Harry would ask from under the door jamb of his locked cupboard, if they'd gotten him anything for Christmas?

He wiped a finger under his moist eyes relishing the memories, only now from another point of view as he wondered just how appreciative his once relatives might be when they discovered the uniqueness of his gifts in the New Year.

Sadly, he closed the portal into the Malfoy's happy lives and left to make another quick stop to finalize his plans for the holiday enjoyment of his family.

Some minutes later...

"Is everything set?"

"We just need to pack a few things and get dressed, dear."

Dear,... he liked the sound of that and couldn't help but blush a smile because of it.

"One o'clock sharp and dress smartly." He reminded.

"Smartly?"

"It means formally, dear." The woman of the house translated.

"Oh, right formal- definitely formal." Her husband agreed.

The woman rolled her eyes at him.

"Sorry, but I've gotta run...lots to do . See ya at one."

"At one dear,.. we can hardly wait."

He was about to leave when the woman grabbed him up in a hug and whispered..."Don't suppose you'd know anything about Santa Claus stopping here last night?"

The way he stiffened in her arms was all the answer she needed despite him admonishing.. "There's no such thing, you know that."

The woman pulled back, taking a moment to admire his poker face as she replied gratefully..."I use to believe that but present circumstances beg otherwise."

With a last squeeze of their joined hands and a nod toward her husband, he left.

* * *

><p>Julia was just coming down the stairs as Harry poked his head out from behind the door with the painting of the fruit bowl.<p>

"Bout time you got up? Get mum and dad, the scones are just coming out of the oven and they're always best fresh out of the oven."

Julia was about to suggest they let them go stone cold in lieu of him unwrapping her gift, but the flour smudge on his nose and his childlike smile he wore had her giggling as she ran off to collect her parents.

They ate a light, but satisfying brunch,(as it was already going eleven) , talking leisurely between bites. Harry listened with rapt attention as Gail and Jeff reminisced over past Christmas' with the children, pausing now and again to lament the absence of Jenny and Max. Though they knew their grandparents were happily spoiling them rotten, it still wasn't the same as seeing their faces as they tore into their gifts.

The talk of gifts had them leaving their dishes where they lie as they drifted off to their cozy, fire in the family room to enjoy their own gifts and hopefully raise their spirits from dwelling on the children's absence this year.

Before someone could suggest who should start, Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably and suggested...

"I..I'd like to start things off with a gift for Julia?" he shyly pulled a large rectangular box, wrapped in silver foil and decorated with a golden lace, from behind one of the room's overstuffed chairs.

"I-I picked out something for , um...er,.. our wedding night?" he stammered blushing a deep red.

Jeff, father that he is, cleared his throat in an intimidating fashion, glaring at his **former**-future son in-law.

"Harry James Potter...!" Gail gasped in outrage. "You don't go buying something like that for Christmas, and you certainly don't advertise the fact in front of the girl's parents if you do!"

Harry was fidgeting so badly as he stared ashamedly at his feet. He looked either ready to start crying our run away and never return.

"Of all the asinine, thoughtless, 'male of the species' antics...?"at this Gail shared her outrage glaring back and forth between her own husband and the 'village idiot' that her daughter intended to marry.

Julia fingered the package's bow asking curiously as she ignored her mother.."Really?"

Harry nodded, unable to raise his head, but his ears were practically glowing red at this point.

With a delighted squeal, Julia ran off with her package intent to open it in the privacy of her room.

"Julia Taylor...?!" her mother's scolding voice called after as she ran giggling up the stairs like she just nicked an entire jar of cookies.

The sound of her door slamming shut had the rest of the family moving.

"You're up, mum." Harry cheered, smiling excitedly. All evidence of his discomfort from a moment ago suddenly evaporated.

_Mum_,.. she liked the sound of that. Gail winked and flew out of the room on her daughter's trail.

Jeff was chuckling appreciatively as he stepped up... "Something for your wedding night... I thought Gail was gonna choke on her tongue for a minute there? Ha-Ha!"

"I did actually." Harry acknowledged innocently, gazing longingly in the direction his fiancé had left.

Jeff immediately sobered, asking for clarification. "You did what?"

"Got her something for our wedding night." Harry answered, oblivious to his friend's darkening face.

"You bought my daughter a night gown for Christmas?' he hissed warningly.

Harry gesticulated with his hands as he clarified that.."Well it wasn't so much a night gown as it was one of these sheer little numbers with the lace and –OWE!"

"Idiot!" Jeff grumbled rubbing his fist from punching his young friend on the side of the head. Just short of being hard enough to knock him out, but sufficient in that he was definitely seeing stars.

"What was that for?" Harry groaned rubbing the side of his head as he stumbled to a nearby chair.

"You really are the 'village idiot'. Getting something like that for your girl in front of her parents? Jeff growled, rolling his eyes in disappointment at his daughter's suspect taste in men.

"I wasn't going to give her it for Christmas, but as a present on our wedding day." Harry defended, still rubbing his head.

"Oh,... sorry." Jeff grumbled uncomfortably having overreacted.

"Nice" Harry complained shooting his friend a filthy glare.

Jeff shrugged indifferently before suggesting... "We better get ready?"

"You go,.. I'm a little dizzy just now. Must've been something I ate?"

Jeff chuckled at that and left to get dressed.

**Upstairs in Julia's room**

Gail arrived just in time to slip in quietly, her arrival unnoticed as her daughter tore off the last vestiges of wrapping paper and opened the box with a sharp finger nail severing the scotch tape.

"W-What .. in.. the...world..?" Julia gasped lifting the satiny gown from its box and holding it out admiringly.

"It was his mothers." Gail announced her presence, startling her daughter slightly before she turned a surprised expression to her mother and then back to the breath taking wedding gown in her hands.

"I-It's .. so beautiful.." Julia gasped in a near whisper, holding the gown reverently in her hands.

Gail nodded her agreement, adding... "He wasn't sure it would do you justice. Many are the times he came to me needing reassurance that you would like the gown."

Julia turned wide eyes that were rapidly filling with tears toward her mother.

"For someone who professes himself so out of his depth, he certainly seems to earn himself an "A" for effort." She added proudly, regarding her future son in-law.

Julia clutched the dress possessively to her breast as tears fell in earnest. "Oh, mom... I don't deserve..."

"Hush..." Gail admonished gently, pulling her daughter into her arms. "You deserve each other."

She pulled back and wiped the tears from her daughter's cheeks with the pads of her thumbs, smiling reassuringly. "No tears now, we need to get ready."

Julia's face turned puzzled to which her mother answered, "You're groom's waiting and the wedding's set for one."

That statement had barely registered when the clock outside chimed the noon hour.

Julia gasped in both excitement and worry.

"Don't worry, dear." Her mother cooed. "The bride's always fashionably late."

Excited squeals filled the room as both women scrambled to get ready after that.

* * *

><p>Julia sat watching her husband sleep,.. <em>her husband. God, but that sounded wonderful.<em>

He never looked so peaceful, so blissfully unaware, so... _gorgeous._

Christmas had seemed a dream, one that she hoped she'd never awaken from.

To surprise her with his mother's wedding gown custom tailored to fit her, was beyond thoughtful, then to surprise with a romantic Christmas wedding was ,.. it was... Wow!"

Harry had thought of everything.

She emerged from her room to find her father waiting for her, beaming up proudly from the foot of the stair. He wore immaculate formal robes, his ribbons and medals adorning his chest as was expected in formal functions. Her brother Max was serving as an usher, also in formal attire that matched his father's. Max was proudly escorting the 'mother of the bride' to their seats.

Her mother looked happier then the day she'd delivered her siblings; she was practically glowing. Gail's smiling gaze drifting from one to the next of her family with a mother's pride, sharing her own unique brand of love and happiness that was imbued in every member of the Taylor household.

Her youngest sister was dressed in an adorable gown- her flower girl. Jenny was all but squealing in delight as he sister floated down the stairs toward them.

"You looked stunning, daughter." Her father had complimented.

"Oh, daddy..." she gasped ecstatically, taking her father's arm with a trembling hand.

Jenny led the way spreading rose petals before them.

The wedding march began. Her heart was beating so forcefully she'd thought it would burst right from her chest.

Her father patted her hand reassuringly where it rested on his arm. "He's waiting..." her father whispered, sending a thrill of expectation through every fiber of her being.

They entered the Great Hall of Hogwart's castle and her breath caught in her throat.

The place was lined with chairs and decorated spectacularly.

Her family was waiting; Grandparents, cousins, close family friends, everyone she cared about in the world. All eyes turning expectantly toward her as her father's back went stiff and his head held high, such was his pride in his eldest child.

Harry's side of the gathering was so very sparse by comparison. No family was there as he had no real family left to him save for an abusive and uncaring Dursley family.

There was a graying, middle aged wizard in formal robes with a woman and two children adjoining him, occupying the seats reserved for the groom's immediate family along with three empty chairs which held a white rose each. These were for Harry's parents and Godfather she realized, her heart nearly broke with the knowledge.

The honorarium led to the certain knowledge that the wizard next to them could only be the last of the famous marauders- Remus Lupin and his family.

The blonde witch from their arrival at Hogwarts; Luna, came next with her family. The tall handsome wizard at her side who must be Neville Longbottom- her husband.

After that was a dark haired wizard with a mischievous smile and a blonde witch on his arm. They sat with a black wizard and his family. They were obviously friends the way the wizard and witches beamed at her and shifted their smiling faces back and forth between her and Harry.

And,... Harry? Her knees went week when her future husband stepped forward awaiting his bride.

Merlin,.. he was so handsome.

His formal attire matched her father's except for his ribbons and medals? The entire left side of Harry's chest was covered in ribbons denoting the magical world's highest honors and those many times over.

She'd never seen him in full dress uniform before as he never attended any of the formals during his tenure at Light Strike. It was a disappointing oddity that was readily accepted once you knew the man on a personal level.

Harry loathed the attention such honorariums elicited though she wished he hadn't as she could well imagine how he must've looked in full dress uniform as he was utterly breathtaking now.

Julia's breath caught in her throat as her father passed her hand to Harry's, planting a soft kiss to each of their cheeks in heartfelt approval of their joining.

Slowly , tremulously she looked up into his expressive green eyes finding such a depth of love and gratitude within that she thought she'd faint from the overwhelming joy she was feeling.

"Merry Christmas to us both, Julia." He wished them gently.

That had done it. The tears came as she wept in joy, pulling his hands to her lips and kissing them reverently as she murmured her happiness and appreciation.

He planted a soft kiss to her lips of reassurance that might have worked had her father not scolded with a chuckle... "That's for after you two."

They approached the pastor waiting patiently, beaming down at the two of them. She could tell, at the time, by the fond looks he cast Harry's way that he was familiar with her intended and couldn't be happier for him.

It turned out that he was the priest that had christened Harry and had knew and cared deeply for Harry's parents.

He mentioned them fondly during the service; calling on them to bear witness to the joining of their beloved son.

Harry had a pair of red headed twins as his best men. The famous Weasley twins, it turned out. Their reputation as perpetual delinquents and notorious pranksters paled notably as the two had cried shamelessly throughout the service.

Her best friend: Rebecca Hastings was her matron of honor and she along with the twins spent the majority of the service wiping happy tears away.

Only in Rebecca's case it was both in happiness and with a broken heart as she too had harbored a crush for Harry Potter since she was a little girl. It had been their common ground that had been the precursor of their long friendship.

To say that Rebecca was both shocked and envious was the understatement of the century.

Two mousy haired fellows buzzed around the proceeding snapping off pictures of both the wedding party and guests. She would learn later that these were also infamous Hogwart's alumni: the Creavey brothers known for badgering their fellows endlessly with cameras in hand.

Their wedding had ended, as all weddings do, with a kiss. A searing kiss of deepest longing, desire and unfathomable love that had her seeing stars as he toes curled so tightly they felt as if they'd pop right out of her shoes.

Rebecca growled appreciatively as the Weasley twins gapped muttering something about ..

"Tragic hero?"

Later, on the dance floor, he'd confessed that he wasn't sure she would appreciate the gesture of his surprise as it was a bride's right to plan her own wedding the way she wanted, but that he just didn't want to wait any longer to spend the rest of his life with her.

She couldn't believe he'd felt that way after the unbelievable fantasy he'd just fulfilled and ... she told him so.

Tender kisses they'd shared throughout the day, one's with the promise of desire to be sated later.

The wedding feast had been a sumptuous affair of both traditional foods and delicacies from around the world.

Apparently the groom loved turkey.

Much laughter and many toasts were shared. The most profound of which coming from that of Father Timothy.

"My friends,..", he'd began, calling for the guest attention.

"Some thirty odd years ago a young couple came before me with a wee child clutched possessively in his mother's arms. He was nothing out of the ordinary, save for his eyes? They were a vibrant green that mimicked his mother's; odd that, for even in the magical world babies are born with blue eyes that change over time.

As it is with all parents; they beamed with love and pride for their child. I couldn't have known then as I do now that in this instance... such admiration was well founded.

The father was surrounded by his closest friends; the child's intended godfather among them. His godfather looked fit to crow and if memory serves he did after." He paused as Harry blushed and the crowd chuckled, except for Remus Lupin who wiped at his eye as he nodded his head in affirmation of Sirius Black's response that day.

Father Timothy continued. "His godmother shined with no less love than that of his paternal mother."

Many there were and although they had collectively lost many friends and family throughout the days of that first war with the dark one, they had gathered in love and friendship to welcome this precious new life amongst us.

Sadly, only Remus Lupin still remains of that party, the last of the Marauders."

"Thank Merlin!" The Weasley twins chorused, toasting Remus .

Father Timothy too saluted over the rim of his champagne glass. Remus nodding his thanks as many rose around the room toasting Remus, Harry among them.

"Yes,.." Father Timothy sighed wistfully we have lost much but we are grateful for what and who we still have."

"The child too survived. Survived and championed the light's cause both here and abroad. For that,... especially for that... we are most humbly grateful. Join me my friends along with those we've lost and cherished who stand amongst us today. Join me in one hope filled voice of gratitude: LONG LIVE HOUSE POTTER!"

"LONG LIVE HOUSE POTTER!" The reception roared in echoing Father Timothy.

Harry had broken at that and was crying openly, his new wife beaming adoringly as she gently comforted her new husband, promising both to him and to herself that there would be many Potters coming down the road.

_Her husband... _Julia drifted from her musing as she drank in the sight of him. Would she ever tire of it? Had her mother before her? She doubted it.

Harry, ever the generous host, provided their wedding quests with their own leather wrapped photo album of the day, compliments of the Creavey brothers; that along with a generous assortment of heartfelt gifts to commemorate the holiday. No one among their many family members and new friends was forgotten.

They'd drifted among them presenting gifts and words of gratitude for sharing this day with them.

What Harry had given Remus Lupin had the poor man sobbing in joy? It seems that James Potter had gifted the Marauders with pocket watches upon their graduation from Hogwart's. All the Marauders had matching silver watches except that Remus's had been gold as he was understandably allergic to silver.

Some years later Remus had been forced to sell that watch to sustain his meager existence. It was perhaps the single most profound regret of a life that was filled with them. Sirius had, upon a time, offered to replace the gift, but Remus would have none of it. Though he had appreciated the offer, it was the original that held all sentiment to him.

With trembling hands, Remus dared to open the watch and found the inscription he knew by heart.

To Remus: _The truest Marauder and best of us all. All my love always- James._

Harry had found his watch. How and where he couldn't begin to fathom as he had searched himself many times over the years since Sirius' death when his friend had left him the means to do so, but had never been successful.

Remus had already been gasping and sobbing at that point, but it was the added sentiment that had him dissolve in a puddle of tears.

_P.S. My friend, uncle and godfather in spirit, now and always- Harry._

The two had held each other weeping happily whilst their friends and family's hovered around at a loss to know what to do other than to finally applaud in shared happiness for the two of them.

Many such personal, heartfelt gifts they'd given that night, but none more so than the gift that _her husband_ had given her in this surprise Christmas wedding of her dreams.

Naked and unashamed she'd come to their wedding bed that night. If he had been disappointed, in that she hadn't worn the night gown he'd gifted her, he showed not a hint of it as his eyes drank her in as readily as she did him in return.

They made love gently at first with increasing need and desire, each awakening sensations in the other that deepened their passion and bond of love.

Finally, deliciously spent, their strength waning, they drifted off to sleep in one another's arms.

Julia's hand ghosted through her husband's hair as he smiled peacefully in dreams of her.

Her love, her life... _her husband._


End file.
